


stoned in love

by birdinglasses



Category: GOT7
Genre: College AU, M/M, bi!jinyoung, implied yugbam, jaebums an asshole in this one sorry, jinbam are bffs, marks the stoner btw, stoner au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-21 23:34:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11955054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdinglasses/pseuds/birdinglasses
Summary: jinyoung meets a stoner named mark who has a thing for staring.his best friend bambam insists they're going to fall in love.bambam's a taurus, though, so jinyoung ignores it.shit entails.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> the titles temporary until i come up with something better than a pun based off a movie title lol

Jinyoung met him for the first time in the administration office on his college campus. He had been sitting across from him while he waited to talk with his counselor about changing one of his classes. He’d noticed him when he walked in, and Jinyoung remembered offhandedly thinking to himself that he seemed a little too pretty to be wasting his time at school of all places on a Friday afternoon. He was only wearing a t-shirt and ripped jeans, but he could tell he was affluent by the flashy watch hanging off his wrist. Somehow, his appearance and wealth didn’t quite match, though, at least not in the way it usually did with boys his age. The boy in the waiting room seemed more discreet; he lacked even a drop of arrogance in his demeanor. Other rich boys usually opened up conversations with their expensive cars and their yachts and summer homes whereas this boy’s wealth looked like it came as an afterthought, a small blip amongst more important things.

Bits of dusty brown hair peeked out from his cap as his head turned and followed Jinyoung as he sat in the seat across from him. Jinyoung didn’t pay much attention to him after sitting down, occupying himself with a book he’d brought with him, but he could feel the boy’s eyes on him from time to time. Normally, he would’ve felt a little defiant, ready to wage some sort of staring contest with a man’s attention so concentrated on him, but this boy’s stare felt different. It wasn’t nearly as intense as it was nonchalant; it felt soft and airy, like feathers and silk sheets. Like he was contemplating something rather than preying on something. And so Jinyoung looked up at him only to be met with a half-lidded smile that lazily appeared and never quite left. He could just barely see his eyes underneath the shadow of his cap, but even still they looked welcoming, an open invitation. And then Jinyoung was called into his counselor’s office. The boy wasn’t there when he came back out.

***

Jinyoung rushed into the classroom five minutes late, struggling to adjust his backpack strap to sit on his shoulder properly and almost spilling the coffee in his other hand. He was disheveled as all hell--he left his dorm late earlier that morning and had taken even longer to grab coffee. Had he known it would take twice as long for the barista to make his drink than it usually did, he would’ve skipped the trip to the coffee shop altogether, but after paying with the last few dollars from his measly college student paycheck, he wasn’t leaving that shop without it.

Thankfully, whatever god was out there happened to be on his side this morning because Jinyoung wasn’t the only one late to class today. His professor still hadn’t shown yet, and the class hummed as students talked with one another, paying no mind to his haphazard entrance. Jinyoung picked a seat on the end a couple rows down and practically fell into it with a long sigh, blowing a few strands of hair out of his eyes. He reached down to pull his notebook out of his bag when he heard the person next to him speak.

“Rough morning?” a low voice asked.

A bit startled due to his lack of observance that somebody was sitting in the desk next to his, Jinyoung turned back around to look at the source of the voice only to find that it was the boy he’d seen in the administration office a week ago. He wasn’t wearing a cap this time, so now he could clearly see the boy’s face. He looked boyish, almost timid in a sense, but it was juxtaposed with the posture of someone who exuded confidence. It was an odd combination of characteristics, but Jinyoung had the subconscious thought that if he were to get to know him, odd would be something that would fit him well. He noticed then that the whites of his eyes looked red, almost slightly irritated in a way. Jinyoung wondered if he hadn’t gotten enough sleep the night before. His lips were pursed and his eyebrows slightly raised in the way that indicated he was waiting for an answer. Jinyoung had almost forgotten he’d asked him a question.

“Ah, yeah, I guess you could call it that,” he quickly replied, offering a friendly smile before he continued to rummage through his bag again. Swiftly finding the pencil he was searching for, Jinyoung looked at him, noticing the boy was watching him the same way he had been the first time they saw each other.

“You’re the guy I saw in the administration office, right? Last week?” he asked, deciding to spark small conversation while they waited for the professor. The boy chuckled a little bit under his breath like he hadn’t thought he would recognize him but was happy he had. He saw a flash of his teeth then, his canines sharp, almost abnormally so, while the rest of his teeth rounded out, and in some strange way, it added to the softness of his profile. It occurred to Jinyoung that everything about his features seemed to have a sort of sharpness that ended bluntly--the curve and point of his nose, the corners of his smile, his teeth, even his jawline and cheekbones. Every angle of his face looked like cut and aged stone, sculpted in a way that, had the artist done it the tiniest bit differently, would’ve been worlds less captivating. _Was everything about him this oxymoronic?_ Jinyoung thought. Jinyoung could tell he’d noticed he’d been admiring him by the way his eyes shown the smallest glint of playfulness.

“Yeah, I am, I was just about to ask you the same thing,” he said, “Mark.”

“Jinyoung.”

The professor walked in then, setting his briefcase on his desk and excusing his tardiness to the class. Mark turned his attention to him.

“Alright, pull out your textbooks, we’re gonna go through chapter five briefly before we dive into theories,” the professor spoke.

Jinyoung’s hand went up to smack his forehead, dragging down his face in frustration as he mumbled a quiet “shit” under his breath. He didn’t even have to look in his bag to know he hadn’t brought his textbook. He could picture it in his head, sitting on the small table by his door in his dorm; he’d specifically put it there the night before so he wouldn’t forget it in the morning, but his hurried start to the day had left a blank spot in his brain where he was supposed to remember to take it with him. This morning really couldn’t be more of a mess. He looked over at Mark flipping through the pages of his textbook before tentatively clearing his throat and whispering to him.

“Hey, um, would you mind--”

Before he could finish, Mark was already pushing his book over on his desk so Jinyoung could read the pages without leaning in much, giving a quick, knowing smile in his direction before focusing back on whatever the professor was going on about (he tended to go off on unrelated tangents more often than he taught). Jinyoung’s ears turned the lightest shade of pink, a warm sensation following, as his eyes stared and lips pouted the tiniest bit at Mark’s attentive gesture. He realized he must have been paying him a lot more attention than he was letting on. The thought made his chest feel funny.

The rest of class was filled with little to no notice of the other besides the occasional awkward interaction when they both tried to turn the textbook’s page at the same time, one of their hands accidentally grabbing the other’s instead of the page. A small breathy chuckle and a mumbled apology would emit from one of them before they reverted their concentration back to the lesson.

When the lecture came to a close, Jinyoung started putting his things back in his bag before turning towards Mark’s desk, intending to thank the boy for letting him use his textbook. However, Mark was already standing up, slinging his backpack over his shoulder, so he hurriedly spoke up before his chance was gone.

“Hey, um, thanks again for letting me use your textbook.”

Mark stopped his sidestep past their desks, Jinyoung’s voice grabbing his attention before he could walk away.

“Don’t worry about it, I didn’t mind,” Mark replied, grinning as his teeth slightly peeked from between his lips. Something about the nuance of his words made Jinyoung’s heart skip the smallest beat, like a pebble skipping across the surface of a lake. Had he not been so aware of himself, he may not have even felt it, but even so, he chose to ignore it. Mark sauntered out of the classroom after that, leaving an earthy scent in the air and Jinyoung to pick up his bag and leave without another word. Jinyoung would soon begin to realize Mark was someone who spoke little, only speaking when words needed to be said. Like his voice was precious and not a decibel of sound should be wasted on something that didn’t hold any importance.

Jinyoung made his way across campus, taking his time to stroll down the tree-lined sidewalks and sit on a bench outside his dorm building in wait for his best friend. Jinyoung and his best friend, Bambam, had agreed to meet in front of the dorms everyday before Bambam’s 11:00 class back before the semester started. Truthfully, Jinyoung enjoyed the few minutes before his best friend would come down to meet him; he liked the alone time to prepare himself for the storm that was Bambam. Jinyoung was a lot more mellow than his eccentric better half, so, at times, being in his presence could be a little overbearing. But Jinyoung loved him all the same; they completed each other in a yin and yang sort of way, making up for what the other lacked. Most importantly, though, Bambam was the only person who’d been able to break Jinyoung out of his shell in high school. He took the quiet kid who sat alone and read at lunch and helped him become the confident boy he grew into. Although, now that Jinyoung thought about it, he wasn’t sure if he did that because he genuinely wanted to help or because he ran out of friends to go to parties with. Not many people knew how to control Bambam, so the boy would gain and lose friends fairly quickly, and when Jinyoung stuck around, he refused to let the newfound friendship go.

“Jinyoungie!!” someone yelled.

Jinyoung’s head shot up to the entrance of the dorms, Bambam beaming and running towards him. He visibly cringed at the nickname, and even from afar, he could hear his friend’s infectious laugh at his reaction; he knew how much he hated the name. That was another favorite activity of Bambam’s--teasing. At any time he could fit it in. Coming from anyone else, Jinyoung would’ve found it annoying, but somehow Bambam’s charm made it endearing, so he endured it.

“Don’t you have any respect for your hyung?” Jinyoung said once his friend was within speaking distance from him.

“We’re in America, Jinyoung, and you’re only eight months older than me. Besides, you know you secretly like when I say it!”

“Lying is a sin, Bambam, did all those Sundays at church teach you nothing?”

Something Jinyoung learned very quickly after spending time with Bambam in high school was how religious his mom was; she had forced him to attend church every weekend with the rest of the family. Bambam had dragged Jinyoung along with him any time he could, insisting that if he had to suffer, so did he. Jinyoung thought it was only because Bambam’s mother was very vocal about her affection for Jinyoung and how “great of an influence he was on her rebellious son”, so Bambam brought him with him to keep his mom off his back. Little did Bambam’s mom know, Bambam was the one influencing Jinyoung more than anything.

Their senior year, though, after Bambam’s mom walked in on him with another boy, his mother and him had a fallout, his mother not being able to fully accept her son’s sexuality. Jinyoung was the only friend there to support Bambam through it, and, eventually, the younger healed back into the vibrant boy he’d originally been, and their friendship solidified into something unbreakable. They learned to laugh at all the wasted time they spent in Catholic chapels, although anything beyond the stained glass-lined walls of those churches was still a touchy subject, and Jinyoung consciously made an effort to avoid the aftermath that came with them.

The two friends bickered back and forth as they walked together, no real destination in mind besides the general area near Bambam’s next class. It was still the first week of classes for the semester, so they mostly discussed their new professors and complained about how much money they wasted on textbooks.

“I’m telling you, I should not have to pay the ungodly amount of money I’m paying for textbooks let alone textbook _codes_ ,” Bambam practically yelled, “I’m not made out of money, yknow?! I have student loans to pay, a party lifestyle to maintain!” his dramatics oozed off every syllable that left his mouth.

“You’re such a diva,” Jinyoung replied, rolling his eyes.

“And you’re a bore. How’re your classes, anyway? Meet anybody cute, a potential...dare I say...boyfriend?”

“Mmm...not exactly”

“You hesitated.”

“I don’t know, I just ran into a familiar face in my physics class. It’s not really that big a deal.”

“What do you mean by familiar face, Jinyoung? Stop being so vague for once in your life.”

Jinyoung felt like he was being interrogated by a cop. He let out a quiet laugh under his breath.

“Why are you so adamant in squeezing every detail out of me? It’s nothing that interesting--he’s just some guy I saw staring at me in the administration office last week, and I met him again in class. I left my textbook at home on accident, and he let me borrow his. See? Nothing special.”

“Nothing special? Jinyoung, you know sharing textbooks is, like, secret language for ‘let’s fuck’, right?”

Jinyoung let out a loud laugh this time, hand coming up to cover his mouth before replying, “You’re an idiot, it’s not that deep.”

“Ahh, stop being so modest, I bet he’s totally into you. Did you guys talk at all during class?”

“Not really, it was just small talk, it doesn’t seem like he talks all that much. At the end of class, I thanked him for letting me use his textbook, and he said he didn’t mind. That’s it.”

Bambam stroked his chin, an eyebrow cocked, searching for some sort of hint of romance, “Was he cute?”

“I mean...yeah...but that doesn’t mean anything. He could be a total jerk for all I know.”

“Stop deflecting Jinyoung, you’ve hooked up with assholes before, it doesn’t matter,” Bambam said, alluding to the time Jinyoung had angry sex with his dick of a roommate the previous semester.

“How did he look at you? Was it romantic? Dreamy? Sensual?” Bambam wiggled his eyebrows at the last word.

“Bambam, seriously, stop reading so much into this,” Jinyoung interrupted his sentence with a chuckle to ease his own mind, “he’s a potential friend, if anything at all. I mean, who knows if I’ll ever even talk to him again? Or see him again besides another face in class. I don’t even know if he _likes_ boys.”

Jinyoung’s best friend looked at him, hardly convinced.

“Besides, I don’t even like him like that, I barely know him,” he added, trying to get his point across that whatever fantasy Bambam was creating in his head was just that--a fantasy. Bambam let out a disappointed sigh, a sign of reluctant resignation.

“I still think there’s something worthwhile with him, even if it’s just a hookup,” Bambam shrugged before changing subjects after checking his watch and realizing he had five minutes before he had to be in class.

“I gotta get to class, but let’s do something tonight! Movie night, maybe? 8:00? At your dorm?” Bambam shouted as he jogged backwards towards the direction of his classroom.

“Sounds good to me, I’ll see ya then, Bammie,” Jinyoung shouted back, their previous conversation gone and replaced with the brotherly affection he had for his best friend. Bambam flamboyantly blew a kiss from across the courtyard, and Jinyoung exaggeratedly reached out to grab the invisible gesture from the air. His friend’s face scrunched up in amusement before he turned and ran off towards his classroom. Jinyoung continued to smile fondly until he couldn’t see him anymore before starting his trek to his dorm. He didn’t have class for another hour, so he figured he’d take the time to lay down and relax.

As he walked, his mind began to replay his conversation with Bambam. Was he really picking up on something he wasn’t? He’d barely spoken to Mark, so he found it hard to believe Bambam could be so easily convinced this acquaintance of his was even remotely into him. He brushed off the conversation then, deciding even if Mark did have some sort of interest in him, he wouldn’t make a move unless the other did first. After the several years he’d spent attached to Bambam’s hip, he’d learned not to take everything he said as fact. The boy liked to create all sorts of narratives for the small interactions Jinyoung shared with any person regardless of gender. Jinyoung figured this was because, at heart, the boy was a hopeless romantic, in love with love to no end.

Jinyoung, however, wasn’t much of a dating person. He didn’t avoid it, per se, if romance arose in his life, but he was more focused on himself to really care much for getting out into the “dating scene”, wherever said scene was. Of course, he was young, so he indulged in one night stands from time to time when Bambam would bring him to parties with him, but he hadn’t been in a serious relationship since sophomore year--and it had bored him to death. The guy he had been with was a stick in the mud to say the least, taking academics so seriously that half their “dates” were spent in his room studying for tests weeks in advance. Anytime Jinyoung tried to heat things up and snake his hand up his thigh to undo his belt, his boyfriend would scold him like a child, reminding him how important his grades were if he wanted any chance of getting into a good college. Bambam hated him and complained to Jinyoung incessantly, urging him to dump “the loser”, in his words. Tired of his best friend’s constant complaining and his growing sexual frustration, he ditched his emotionless boyfriend and convinced himself dating just wasn’t worth it. Ever since, Bambam’s been trying to hook him up with anything that walks, boys and girls alike. Jinyoung subconsciously rolled his eyes at the countless memories of his eccentric wingman trying to set him up on blind dates repeatedly. He admitted he had to give him a round of applause for the effort he put into his love life. It was almost enough to make up for his lack of it.

He walked through the front doors of his dormitory building, making a sharp right towards the elevators. Once reaching his floor, he pulled his key out of his bag, praying his roommate had already left for his class. Jinyoung let out a sigh of relief when he swung the wooden door open to see the room was vacant. His roommate, Jaebum, was...well, an asshole if he was being honest. He swore the man had a nine foot pole stuck up his ass--he was anal in every degree of the term. They fought so often it felt like they never talked at normal volumes with each other. Jaebum always found something to complain about: “Jinyoung, keep your fucking music down”, “Jinyoung, keep your ugly shoes on your side of the room”, “Jinyoung, my girlfriend’s staying the night, go sleep somewhere else”. He once even threw a book at Jinyoung and woke him up in the middle of the night because, in his words, “he was breathing too loud”. The man was unbelievably bitter, for god knows what reason, and part of why Jinyoung didn’t get along with him to the extent he did, was because his roommate reminded him of himself. Granted, Jaebum was a _very_ different version of Jinyoung, but he was nonetheless a version of him. Like the opposite side of the same coin. Jinyoung was consciously aware that him and Jaebum would have been very much alike had Jinyoung never met Bambam. He added that to the list of things to be thankful to his best friend for.

Jinyoung stretched out across his bed, his head swarming with all his schoolwork he would have to tend to, or more than likely, think about tending to and just put off instead. His disciplined, studious habits from high school went out the window once he hit college, but he got his assignments done on time regardless and normally passed with flying colors. Something about the impending pressure of a deadline closing in pulled the intellect out of him and onto paper quicker than anything else.

The hour spent in his dorm flew by quickly, occupied by a much needed nap before he headed back out to attend his last two classes. The rest of the day seemed to drag on, a much better alternative, Jinyoung thought, to the frenzied morning he had. He would take slow and monotonous over busy and stressful any day. Between his two classes, he had spent some time in the campus library, looking for new reading material to pass the time but ending up leaving empty handed.

It was already well into the evening when his last class wrapped up, so Jinyoung opted to go grab some food at a local fast food joint for him and Bambam before they met up at his dorm for their night in. Jinyoung preferred walking to driving, so by the time he was on his way back to the campus dorms, it was 7:45, and his phone was ringing loud in his pocket. Placing the two bags of food on the ground in order to pull his phone out of his front pocket, he answered the call without looking at the caller ID.

“Jinyoung,” Bambam whined, drawling out the other’s name as soon as he put the receiver up to his ear. Jinyoung knew as soon as he heard his best friend’s baby voice, something wasn’t going his way.

“What’s wrong this time, Bambam?” Jinyoung sighed into the phone. It wasn’t foreign to him to get calls like this from the boy.

“I came to your room early to set everything up for our movie night, but your asshole of a roommate said we can’t hang out here because he’s studying for an ‘important’ test.”

Jinyoung could hear Jaebum cursing at Bambam in the background of the call after hearing the boy call him an asshole. He rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to think of what to do.

“I’m on my way to the dorms right now, I’ll talk to Jaebum when I get there. Just, I don’t know, wait outside the room or something,” Jinyoung could hear Bambam arguing with his roommate, Bambam’s phone still held up to his ear, hardly registering Jinyoung’s words. He just barely heard the end of his sentence, in which he told Jaebum to call his girlfriend since he clearly needed a nut bust if he was this uptight.

“Bambam!” Jinyoung yelled, “stop arguing with him, it’s not helping. Just wait outside for me,” he said to the feisty boy on the other line, not even waiting for an answer before hanging up and putting his phone back in his pocket, grabbing the fast food bags, and resuming his walk home, albeit a bit faster than before.

When he finally reached the dorms, he took the elevator up and saw Bambam sitting against the wall in the hallway. He turned to look at Jinyoung, immediately getting up to meet him halfway and grab the bags of food while the other boy went into his room to talk to his roommate.

“Oh great, you’re back,” Jaebum said when he saw Jinyoung in the doorway, sarcasm laced in his words, “listen, I already told the twink you guys can’t stay here. I have a test to study for, and I don’t need your little get together distracting me.”

“You do understand I live in this dorm room, too, right? You can’t just kick me out every time something slightly inconveniences you.”

“Okay, well I think my test is a little more important than a fucking movie night,” Jaebum’s agitation was getting more palpable by the minute. Bambam must’ve really gotten him worked up earlier if his fuse was this short already. Not that he was good at controlling his anger in the first place.

“Just study in the library, that’s what it’s there for! Do you know how many nights you and your girlfriend distracted me while I was trying to study for finals last semester? And instead of complaining about it, I left and found somewhere quieter, it’s not that fucking hard!”

“I shouldn’t have to leave the comfort of my room just because you two want to throw a slumber party. Just do it at his dorm, Jesus Christ.”  
Jinyoung, for the millionth time today, rolled his eyes so hard, he thought they might fall out of his sockets. He swore he’d never met a more pretentious, entitled man in his life. He knew Jaebum only threw these hissy fits because he was a year ahead of Jinyoung and on his way to med school, so he inherently thought he was superior. Every time Jinyoung was reminded of the older man’s superiority complex, he felt increasingly angrier. Jinyoung was a man of order, civility, and compromise, and with Jaebum, he got none of those things.

Truthfully, though, they could’ve just watched the movies at Bambam’s dorm for the night, but Jinyoung was stubborn, and since Jaebum was the one who suggested the alternative, there was no way he was going to back down and accept. Jinyoung was also determined in not letting Jaebum push him around anymore; he’d spent all last semester tiptoeing around him as best he could (to no avail might he add, Jaebum still managed to become agitated about something) before realizing it would make no difference if he stomped instead. The older man was still unsatisfied with his presence and especially so after he’d cheated on his girlfriend in a heated moment with Jinyoung.

Bambam cracked open the door then before Jinyoung could begin his verbal attack towards his roommate for being such a dick all the time, talking through a handful of fries in his mouth as he stood in the doorway, “Forget it Jinyoung, it’s a lost cause, let’s just do something else. He ruined the mood anyway, I don’t even feel like watching movies anymore.”

Bambam’s suggestion seemed to pull Jinyoung out of his anger-filled headspace long enough for him to throw one more death stare at Jaebum before walking out of the dorm and slamming the door shut behind him. And then opening the door only to slam it again for emphasis. Jinyoung had always been good at being petty.

“So, what now?” Jinyoung asked Bambam, grabbing his food from the bags he’d long since forgotten about when he showed back up at the dorm. The food was cold, but Jinyoung ate it regardless--food was food, and he was exhausted from arguing yet again with his roommate.

“Well, actually, my friend, Jackson, just texted me about a party tonight at one of the frat houses near here…” Bambam trailed off, already feeling Jinyoung’s disapproval.

“Ugh, a frat party? But they’re always so...gross.”

“I know, I know, but the mood for the night’s already been ruined, I think we could both use a pick-me-up, go a lil crazy, get a lil drunk. After that argument, you could use some stress relief, anyways. You’re so tense I can see that one vein popping out of your neck again, Jinyoung, and it’s not sexy.”

“What vein? Are you really trying to insult me right now after all this?”

“I said what I said,” Bambam shrugged, “are you down to go to the party or what?”

“I don’t know…”

“C’mon, please hyung?” Bambam begged, using the Korean honorific because he knew it would sway Jinyoung’s decision. Being in America, the two hardly spoke Korean and all honorifics dropped with it, but when they went to high school together in Korea, Bambam used it consistently to sugarcoat and beg for whatever it was he wanted. Jinyoung was aware that was the only reason he was using it, but he still let himself be persuaded. Sometimes, it was just too hard to say no to his best friend.

“Fine, yeah, I guess we can go, I could use a couple beers anyway, but if any of these frat boys try to force me into doing a keg stand, I’m leaving,” Jinyoung threatened. Bambam cackled as they began walking down the hallway, backtracking Jinyoung’s path when he’d first showed up after Bambam’s call. He reassured him that the frat boys wouldn’t even think to ask _him_ of all people to do a keg stand--“especially not when you’re wearing slacks and a button down”.

“What’s wrong with my outfit? I thought it was nice,” Jinyoung slightly pouted.

“There’s nothing wrong with it, it’s actually pretty nice, but typically you’re not supposed to wear a business formal ensemble to a frat party,” Bambam said, giving his friend a once-over. Realizing the younger had a valid point, he decided he would change once they got to Bambam’s dorm. Jinyoung kept spare clothes there for times when Jaebum’s presence was too aggravating to deal with and he needed a place to sleep for the night, despite how uncomfortable it was to share Bambam’s small twin-size bed.

After Jinyoung changed into something more casual, and Bambam changed into some more comfortable shoes (because “Jinyoung, I can’t wear those to a frat party, they’re too expensive to be destroyed by some drunk spilling beer all over them”), they lounged in the dorm for a few more hours, choosing to leave for the party when they knew it’d be in full swing when they got there.

Jinyoung could smell the liquor before they even reached the door, the soles of his feet already vibrating from the volume of the music inside. His subconscious was telling him this wasn’t going to end well, but yet his legs still carried him through the door with his best friend by his side. The house was considerably hotter than outside and congested with so many people, it was probably a fire hazard. The two made their way to the kitchen to grab drinks, Bambam opting for the strongest drink available while Jinyoung filled a red cup with beer from the keg. They stood at the edge of the doorway, looking in at the large room full of dancing bodies, observing--or at least Jinyoung was. Bambam was chugging his drink and slamming down another, searching for the buzz he wanted before getting lost in the sweaty crowd. Bambam’s first rule of partying was never bringing your drink with you to dance. He’d ruined too many good outfits from spilling his liquor all over himself, sometimes from all the movement from the people dancing around him, other times from being too drunk to hold his drink steady in his hand.

Jinyoung tipped his cup back, drinking the rest of the golden liquid in it and contemplating whether to grab another or pace himself instead. He chose the latter as he locked eyes with a girl dancing on the outskirts of the crowd. She eyed him up and down before winking, obviously a sign that she wanted his company. Jinyoung didn’t find her that intriguing, if at all, but he figured he was here, so he might as well indulge in some sort of fun. He snaked his way through the people in what he assumed was the living room of the house before reaching the girl who’d drawn his attention. She smirked before wrapping her hand around his wrist and pulling him into the depths of the crowd, some old school hip hop song blaring in his ears. Once they were near the center and her footsteps ceased, Jinyoung placed his hands on her hips, pulling her into him as her arms instinctively looped around his neck and she leaned back.

They grinded into each other, hands roaming and hips connecting to the beat of the song playing through the speakers. The girl, who Jinyoung hadn’t even bothered to learn the name of, turned around after a few songs, beginning to trail sloppy kisses all over Jinyoung’s neck and jaw. Usually, Jinyoung didn’t mind when his suitor for the night did this. In fact, it tended to turn him on when they did, but he could tell by the sheer wetness of the kisses being plastered all over his neck that the girl was drunk beyond belief. And if Jinyoung knew anything about hookups, it was that the drunk ones were never pleasurable. Not wanting to give up just yet on the intoxicating atmosphere of being in the center of the moving crowd, he spun the girl back around by her waist, hoping she would just continue to dance and leave his neck alone. It worked for a few minutes until she flipped around again, this time attaching her lips to his neck and sloppily sucking on it, obviously trying to create some sort of hickey. It felt repulsive, and Jinyoung thought, had the music not been so deafening, he probably would’ve been able to hear the lewd suction of her lips on him. He pursed his lips at her drunken attempt at sensual PDA, gently pushing her off him, yelling over the music to her that he was going to get a drink before quickly weaving through the people around him, wanting as much distance between him and the girl as possible.

Jinyoung ended up back in the kitchen, a moist film on his neck, either from the humidity accumulating in the house or the saliva from the nameless girl’s mouth. Regardless, Jinyoung was sticky with sweat, so he grabbed another beer before making his way to the backyard for some fresh air. On his way to the patio doors, he found Bambam drunkenly dancing with a tall boy. As if sensing his best friend’s gaze, Bambam found Jinyoung eyes from a few feet away and pointed at the boy he was dancing with before fanning himself and placing his hand against his forehead in mock faintness. Jinyoung giggled before knowingly shaking his head and turning to walk out the door.

As soon as the air from outside hit his face, Jinyoung sighed in relief, fingers filing through his hair and pulling it up off his forehead to sweep towards the back of his head. There was still a significant amount of people outside, but it was quiet enough for Jinyoung despite the muffled bass leaking from the insides of the house and the static of people talking amongst each other. Sipping on his beer, he walked along the side of the house until he was far enough from the door that his brain stopped pulsing as much from the music. He leaned up against the brick wall of the house, tilting his head up to look at the stars and clouds as he drank.

“Jinyoung?” A voice questioned from a table by the pool near where Jinyoung stood. His head snapped down from its tilted position in search of the person who called out to him. His eyes met with the last person he thought he’d see again tonight: the boy from his class who’d let him share his textbook. The boy Bambam was convinced had some sort of deep attraction to Jinyoung.

“Mark?” Jinyoung called back, pushing off the wall and walking over to the table Mark sat at with a couple friends.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” smoke filtered out of Mark’s mouth and nose as he spoke, his eyes a veiny red, irritated almost. It clicked then for Jinyoung. He glanced down at Mark’s hand to find a small joint pinched between the pads of his thumb and index finger. Mark hadn’t been tired in class this morning--he’d been high. Jinyoung felt foolish after coming to this realization, like a naive child unable to connect the dots. He figured this also probably explained the lazy aura Mark gave off the first time they ever saw each other in the administration office a week ago.

“I could say the same,” Jinyoung replied after a pause that may have been the slightest too long for comfort.

Mark noticed him eyeing the joint in his hand. His arm extended towards him, “Sorry, did you want a hit?”

“I don’t smoke.”

“Oh…I see…” Mark retracted his arm, hesitating for a split second before pulling the joint back up to his mouth to take another drag from it. Jinyoung watched the end of it glow like a fiery red ember as the other inhaled. Something in Mark’s eyes shifted as he exhaled the smoke towards Jinyoung and watched as his nose scrunched, more like twitched, at the smell it perfumed in the air. It almost felt like the other boy was testing Jinyoung, feeling him out without speaking.

“I don’t have anything against weed, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Jinyoung’s hand came up to rub the nape of his neck and he rushed the words out in order to avoid a misunderstanding as he noticed the shift in atmosphere, “it’s just not for me.”

“Why not?” Mark’s eyes looked quizzical now, his words almost challenging him to smoke the rest of the joint between his fingers. Whatever version of Jinyoung’s newfound acquaintance this was, it intimidated him, but he still let himself be reeled in.

“I used to smoke from time to time in high school at parties, but the highs started making me anxious, so I just stopped.”

“Ahh, I understand,” Mark nodded, his intimidating facade seeming to slip, “I’ll be honest, though, I wasn’t expecting that answer. I thought you were about to give me some speech about how ‘the devil’s lettuce is a gateway drug and kills brain cells’ or something.”

“Do I really look that uptight?”

Mark looked him up and down then, biting his lip just slightly as he reached Jinyoung’s hips. Jinyoung pretended he didn’t notice.

“Well, right now, not really, but in class today you looked like you just came from a business meeting, so how am I supposed to know, Jinyoung?” The way Mark said his name this time made his stomach feel weird. Jinyoung decided to blame it on the beer.

It sounded playful, taunting him to do something out of character, to prove all of his assumptions wrong. And Jinyoung considered doing something unexpected, the boy in front of him tempting him with his inconsistent yet all the more mysterious personality from his high, but the orderly person Jinyoung really was held him back from any form of spontaneity. Mark giggled when Jinyoung couldn’t muster up any reply, taking one last drag from his joint before stamping it out on the ground and getting up to throw the small nub left in the nearest trash can.

While he began to leisurely walk back over, though, Jinyoung heard the music from inside the house cut off, and the back door swung open as people quickly rushed out, leaving through the back gate or any other way they could find to forego exiting through the front of the house. Bambam came out then, spotting Jinyoung and grabbing him by the arm before dragging him towards the back gate. Jinyoung barely had any time to set his cup down on the nearby table.

“The cops showed up, we gotta go,” Bambam said quickly. It’d been a while since Jinyoung had been to a party that got shut down, but it didn’t surprise him this party had with the amount of people filling up the property. Jinyoung looked back towards the house then while they exited through the gate, eyes searching for Mark but couldn’t find him amongst the growing crowd in the backyard. Once they were out on the dimly lit street, Bambam let go of Jinyoung’s arm, looking at both ends of the alley to figure out which way to go to get back to their dorms. Jinyoung, already aware that his friend was a lot more tipsy than he was, pulled Bambam in the right direction to get home. The walk was quiet at first, something about wandering the streets at night veiling a sense of calm over the two boys.

“That party was crazy,” Bambam broke the silence, never really able to stay mute for long, especially when intoxicated, “that guy I was dancing with was so hot, and he was such a good dancer. God, I think I’m in love.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, he was amazing, I got his number, too. Told me his name was Yug-something, I can’t remember.”

“You’re in love with him, but you can’t even remember his name?” Jinyoung scoffed.

“Hey, give me a break, I’m kinda drunk right now. Anyway, weren’t you outside the whole time? I saw you leave out the back door and that was it.”

“Nah, I was inside for a while dancing with this girl. Turns out she was wasted out of her mind, it was a total turn off, so I grabbed a drink and went outside for some fresh air. I ran into Mark while I was out there, though.”

“Mark? Who’s that?”

“The guy I met in class today,” Jinyoung’s response seemed to immediately sober Bambam up then, grabbing all of his attention. Jinyoung could feel the inevitable excitement about to explode from the boy.

“Are you serious?” Bambam half yelled, “why didn’t you come get me and introduce me to him?” The boy visibly frowned, the other finding his reaction amusing.

“Why would I introduce you to him? We hardly know each other, plus you’re kinda sloppy when you’re drunk.”

Bambam feigned hurt, placing his hand on his chest, and if Jinyoung hadn’t known him as well as he did, he might’ve fallen for the act.

“I did find out he’s a total stoner, though,” Jinyoung continued, “when I first met him in class, his eyes looked red, but I just figured he was tired or something, y’know? But when I saw him outside, he was smoking a joint, so…”

“Wait, hold on, how do you know he’s a stoner, though? Maybe he just likes to smoke weed from time to time.”

“Bambam, what kind of a person who isn’t a stoner wakes and bakes? Especially right before class?”

There was a lull in the conversation as Bambam tried to come up with some sort of excuse for the boy he’d never met. Jinyoung took his lack of response as the answer he was looking for.

“I’m not saying it’s bad that he’s a stoner. I don’t really care, but I don’t know...it kinda threw me off.” Jinyoung chose not to elaborate beyond that, a mix of thoughts floating around in his head and a sense of want he masked with an emotion mistaken for disappointment. He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, sighing quietly.

“So, does this mean you’re not gonna fuck him? I heard having sex while you’re high makes you really horny so you cum a lot,” Bambam’s voice interrupted Jinyoung’s train of thought currently nearing a trainwreck.

“God, Bambam!” Jinyoung scrunched his face up in mild disgust, “How drunk are you, right now?”

The other boy’s laugh erupted into the night’s atmosphere, filling the empty streets with more than just the buzzing of street lamps and humming of distant cars. Jinyoung shook his head as they neared the dorm building. Walking up the steps and inside the doors, he lightly shoved Bambam down the hallway, careful not to be too forceful for the sake of his best friend’s impaired sense of balance.

“Get some sleep, you’re gonna need it with the hangover you’re about to have when you wake up,” Jinyoung said before making his way over to the elevators and taking one up to his floor. Surprisingly, he managed to tiptoe in and change out of his clothes without waking Jaebum. Silently thanking whatever God was on his side, he fell into bed, pulling his comforter over his shirtless body and folding his arms behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. His thoughts from his walk home trickled back into the forefront of his brain, this time without the interruption of his friend’s unfiltered comments. He recalled how different the Mark he met in class felt from the Mark he met at the party. Coming across as someone more intense than their initial meeting, Jinyoung wasn’t sure where the actual personality of Mark fell along the two opposites. And more importantly, he couldn’t make sense of why he was so fixated on figuring him out. He cleared his head then, choosing to think about his shift at work tomorrow afternoon instead of indulging the thoughts running circles in his head.

Sleep eventually enveloped him for the night, bringing dreams of an alluring boy surrounded by hazy smoke and soft touches dragging down his body that Jinyoung wouldn’t remember in the morning.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i lied, i'm keeping the title lol

Jinyoung slept in until noon, only stirring awake when Jaebum was rustling things around in their room before leaving for the day. He yawned as he sat up in bed, swinging his legs over the edge of it and letting his feet hit the floor. Not having to be at work for another couple hours, he took his time getting out of bed, lethargy still clinging to his body as he stared out the window and watched the cars and people bustling outside. His mind wandered, never lingering on one specific thought for long. The party, as well as Mark, seemed to invade more than a few of them, though, but he was quick to disregard, not quite awake enough to have the energy to nitpick everything that occurred within the last 24 hours.

He got out of bed then, deciding to put some clothes on and head to the bathroom to wash up before he ended up repeating the morning before and would have to rush to get to work on time. After making himself presentable, Jinyoung grabbed his glasses off his nightstand (which were fake, by the way, but Jinyoung insisted they appealed to the customers), slipped on his shoes, and left for the bus stop. The college and dorms were in the heart of the city which made it easy for Jinyoung to go just about anywhere without any need for a car. While public transportation and traveling by foot could be cumbersome at times, and Jinyoung often spent his time in transit daydreaming about owning the expensive cars he’d see on the street passing him, he separated his desire from his needs. And he needed to save money. Practicality was embedded in every fiber of his being, and throwing a car payment on top of his student loan payments just wasn’t something he would willingly do unless absolutely necessary.

The bus pulled up to the metal bench Jinyoung sat at, brakes squeaking and doors sliding open. Leisurely making his way down the aisle, Jinyoung slumped into a seat towards the back, plugging in his earbuds to listen to some music as the bus pulled away from the curb. Normally, he would fill his bus ride with wandering looks at the skyscrapers and trees just outside the window, but this time around, he found it hard to focus on much of his surroundings, thoughts of a certain boy filtering through his brain and becoming increasingly harder to ignore. As much as he brushed off his interactions with Mark, his head still ran circles over what he was really like. Jinyoung usually commemorated himself in being able to figure out others so quickly, but Mark fell into some sort of gray area, his opinions of him left foggy and obscured. He struggled to decide whether either of their interactions could create a real depiction of Mark due to his altered state. He really had no idea what he was like when he wasn’t high--he’d only ever spoken with him when he’d been stoned, and even then the brief conversations were vastly different. The more Jinyoung tried to decipher the other boy, the more confused he felt. And where there was confusion, curiosity was close behind.

After being dropped off at his stop, Jinyoung made his way down the street, yanking open the heavy door to the restaurant he worked at and cutting through the lobby into the backroom to change into his uniform, a form-fitting pair of black slacks and a black button down to match. When he clocked in and came back out to the dining area, his coworkers immediately began tossing table numbers and orders at him. Putting on his best customer service smile, Jinyoung briskly walked over to an older woman who’d just been seated, introducing himself and proceeding to take her drink order.

Jinyoung was arguably the best waiter the restaurant had. His charisma turned all of his customers into putty, and in turn, they would end up forking over more money on food they wouldn’t have thought to order had Jinyoung not been so persuasive (and good looking). While it wasn’t uncommon for families to dine at the restaurant he worked at, plenty of wealthy clientele came in, as well, and Jinyoung would often leave his shifts with countless receipts from different people he’d served with phone numbers and a flirtatious “Call me” scrawled on them paired with extra generous tips. Although he never took advantage of the pool of numbers that would pile up due to the risk of losing his job by acting on customers’ advances, he had to admit he enjoyed the attention. That and it entertained him to watch his coworkers make bets on how many phone numbers they thought he would get by the end of his shift.

“Ahh, c’mon Jinyoung, you couldn’t have gotten two more numbers? I just lost half my tips!” his coworker, Youngjae, complained when they finished counting his receipts for the night. Jinyoung chuckled, shaking his head at his coworkers’ antics.

“That’s not my fault, should’ve just bet your usual five bucks. You’re getting too bold, Youngjae,” Jinyoung reprimanded.

“No, I just expected more. I mean it’s obvious you’re the best looking person working here,” Youngjae’s statement earned protests and yells from their coworkers to which the younger boy stuck his tongue out in response.

“I’m flattered, Youngjae,” Jinyoung laughed as he folded his uniform and placed it neatly in his cubby, “I’ll buy you that snack you like from the convenience store next time I come in for a shift.”

“Alright!” Youngjae thrusted his fist into the air, “I should compliment you more often if this is what I’m gonna get out of it.” His infectious laugh echoed in the restaurant. The rest of their coworkers scoffed, grumbling about how it wasn’t fair that Youngjae lost but somehow still managed to win something. Everyone knew Jinyoung had a soft spot for Youngjae compared to everyone else. He held an odd older brother affection towards the high schooler, feeling as though he should take him under his wing, and, out of habit, tended to baby him more than he was consciously aware of.

Leaving his coworkers to argue amongst themselves over his obvious favoritism, Jinyoung clocked out for the night, subconsciously counting the cracks in the sidewalk as he walked back over to the bus stop he’d been dropped off at earlier in the day. His phone vibrated in his pocket while he waited, and he pulled it out to read the name across the top of the text.

 

**From: Jaebum**

my girlfriend’s spending the night don’t come back to the dorm

 

Sighing heavily to himself, he unlocked his phone and dialed Bambam’s number instead of replying. The dial tone rang a few times before the boy on the other line finally answered.

“Hey, Jinyoung, what’s up?”

“Jaebum kicked me out of the room again, mind if I crash at yours?”

“Nah, come over whenever. I’m staying in with Jackson, anyway.”

“Thanks, I just got off work, so I’ll be there in 15,” Jinyoung said as he saw the bus down the road before ending the call and putting his phone back in his pocket; his mood was too dampened to bother listening to any music. The silent bus ride back to the dorms was calming, melancholy almost, allowing Jinyoung to wallow in self pity momentarily. He looked at his reflection in the window, watching the way the shadows from passing street lights would contour his face. He frowned upon noticing the discreet blues and purples under his eyes despite sleeping in. He could already feel the impending stress this semester would produce especially with the increasing hours he’d be working at the restaurant. And on top of that, he still couldn’t stop thinking about the stoner in his physics class. He let out a huff and shook his head at the absurdity of his budding intrigue for the other boy and, how, amongst thoughts of all of his responsibilities, his brain still managed to return to him. While Jinyoung knew he was really only curious about Mark, determined to figure out his personality, he was also aware of his slight attraction to him. He would be lying to himself if he didn’t at least acknowledge that Mark was  _ very  _ pretty, but he tried to tell himself that that was the extent of it.

The bus came to a break-whistling stop, pulling Jinyoung out of his head as the doors opened in wait for him to exit. He walked down the aisle and onto the sidewalk and watched the bus pull away from the curb to its next destination before beginning his walk to the dorms. Feet falling into a steady rhythm, his sneakers scuffed the cement before hitting the linoleum floor of the dorm lobby and heading down the hallway to Bambam’s room. He could hear muffled voices behind the wooden door when he knocked, Jackson opening it with his head turned to Bambam in mid-conversation. Whatever he’d said, the duo burst into fits of laughter as Jinyoung toed his shoes off just inside the doorway and sat on his best friend’s bed.

“How was work?” Bambam asked when he sat down.

“Fine, I waited on this rich middle-aged woman. I think she was a cougar,” Jinyoung said, reaching into his pocket to pull out his wallet and fan out the bills inside it, “she gave me a fifty dollar tip.”

“Well, did you get her number?” Jackson interjected, joining in on the conversation.

“She wrote it on the receipt, but I didn’t keep it. She’s not really my type.”

“Not your type? She’s rich, Jinyoung, who cares if she’s your type? Butter her up and make her pay your tuition!” Bambam said. While it was obvious he was only joking, there was still a tone of seriousness to Bambam’s suggestion. He had always been one to look for the easy way of doing things regardless of how unorthodox the methods were.

“I’m not turning into a sugar baby for some random customer.”

“Well, if you won’t, I will,” Jackson said, his loud, high pitched giggle bouncing off the walls in their room. Bambam and Jackson joked back and forth about the potential they had for being a bunch of freeloading gold diggers. Though he found it mildly insulting that the two would think to include him in a discussion about piggybacking off others’ fortunes instead of creating their own, it was still an amusing idea--Jinyoung, of all people, a sugar baby. Between the three of them, he was the least likely to ever engage in anything of the sorts, which made it all the more comical.

“Can we, I don’t know, do something else besides brainstorm how to pimp ourselves out to some old lady?” Jinyoung spoke after a minute, knowing if he didn’t change the subject now, the two would continue to plot their sugar baby endeavors for the rest of the night.

“Sure, Jinyoung, why don’t we talk about your growing romance with that stoner?” Bambam teased.

Jinyoung rolled his eyes. He should’ve saw that one coming, but for the first time since the party, Mark had slipped from his mind.

“Ooh, romance? What kinda romance are we talking here?” Jackson asked, grabbing a nearby pillow off his bed, hugging it to his chest and crossing his legs. He looked like a little kid about to hear a bedtime story.

“No romance, actually, Bambam’s exaggerating as usual,” Jinyoung tried to end the conversation there, but the other two weren’t so quick to let it go.

“Don’t be so modest, Jinyoung,” Bambam slyly smirked, clucking his tongue. He was fully aware of how much his friend did not want to talk about Mark, but he elaborated the situation to Jackson anyway.  “Jinyoung met this guy last week in the administration office and then ran into him in class yesterday. He forgot his textbook, but get this,” he paused to build suspense, “he let Jinyoung borrow his!”

“Oh, so he wants to hook up, then?” Jackson said, glancing at Jinyoung for an answer.

“That’s  what I said, but he told me I was being stupid!” Bambam exclaimed, giving Jinyoung a dirty look. “Anyway, he said it wasn’t a big deal, but then he bumped into the guy at the party we went to last night, but he still insists it’s nothing!”

“Because it is,” Jinyoung deadpanned.

“Mmmm, sounds like fate to me,” Jackson said, index finger pressed to his chin like he was thinking hard over the details Bambam was relaying to him.

“See, I wanted to say that, but I thought Jinyoung would say I was overreacting.”

“That’s because you are. Both of you are.”

“Was he cute?” Jackson asked Bambam, ignoring Jinyoung.

“Jinyoung said he was, but I’ve never seen him.”

“Okay, so he’s attractive  _ and _ you keep running into him? And you’re telling me this isn’t anything worth acknowledging?” Jackson addressed him now.

“Just because a guy’s nice to look at doesn’t mean I’m bound to fall in love with him,” Jinyoung grumbled.

“Fair enough, but you seem so determined to make it nothing, even if he just ends up being a dude you hook up with. It’s almost like you’re trying to convince yourself you’re not into him.”

Jinyoung scratched the back of his head, suddenly getting uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation. He’d known Jackson for two years now, and yet he was still caught off guard every time the other read him like this. It didn’t seem like Jackson even realized when he was doing it, either, he just saw through his facades as if they were made of cellophane, all emotions laid out like a deck of cards.

“No, I just…” Jinyoung trailed off, his words betraying him and fleeting from his tongue.

Jackson grinned then, a look of triumph in his eyes like he’d just solved a jigsaw puzzle. “So when exactly does the weed part come in? I thought Bambam said he was a stoner?” He changed the direction of the conversation for the sake of Jinyoung, taking the heat away from his false front of emotions and putting it on the actual boy he keeps running into.

“Oh, he saw him smoking a joint at the party, and I guess his eyes were bloodshot during their morning class, so he put two and two together,” Bambam answered for him.

“Ah, so you’re anti-weed?” Jackson asked.

“No, I don’t care that much if he smokes weed,” Jinyoung responded truthfully.

“So what’s holding you back?”

“I don’t know,” Jinyoung sighed and looked at the door wishing he hadn't walked through it only to have the conversation he was having. He wondered how the two of them had managed to corner him like this in the span of twenty minutes. “I guess it’s because I’ve only ever talked to him when he’s been high, and he felt like a completely different person both times. I feel like I don’t even know where his personality begins and ends.”

“But isn’t that how it is with anybody you’ve just met? Not knowing the depth of their personality?”

“It’s different. I feel like those conversations we had were disingenuous or fake since he wasn’t...all there,” Jinyoung’s hands furled and unfurled in his lap, fingers fidgeting as if trying to occupy himself with something besides this conversation. Jackson hummed in understanding as he spoke.

“Shouldn’t you at least get to know him before digging yourself into a hole like this, though? I know how pessimistic and assuming you can get, but you’ve only spoken to him twice, and both times were enjoyable, were they not?”

Jinyoung meekly nodded, “I guess.”

“Then talk to him some more. See what he’s really like. He can’t be high  _ all _ the time, right?”

“Right…” Jinyoung softly replied, furrowing his brows as he stared at the wall and rummaged through his thoughts. He still felt apprehensive about everything, but Jackson’s voice of reason was beginning to pull him out of his negative headspace for the time being.

“We’re not gonna talk about Jinyoung’s boy troubles with Mark all night, are we? Because it’s kinda ruining the mood,” Bambam interrupted then. He’d only meant to tease Jinyoung about the boy, but somehow the conversation had turned into a full-fledged therapy session.

“Mark?” Jackson’s head perked up at the name, “the stoner you met is Mark? As in Mark Tuan?”

“Maybe? I don’t know his last name,” Jinyoung said.

“What’s he look like?”

“Short brown hair, a little bit shorter than me, kinda lanky, I don’t know.”

Jackson paused to think for a moment, “Hmm...that’s really vague, but it’s probably him. I doubt there’s another stoner on campus with the same name.”

“So you know him?”

“Yeah, we’re friendly. I get my weed through him sometimes.”

“Wait, he  _ deals _ ?” Jinyoung’s face blanched.

“What? Oh my god, no,” Jackson giggled, “sometimes I’m too lazy to meet up with my plug, so I just ask him to get double next time he buys and I pay him back. That’s besides the point, though. The point is I know Mark, and if you want his number, I can give it to you.”

“Oh...um, I don’t know. Have you ever hung out with him when he’s sober? What’s he like?” Jinyoung asked, becoming more curious by the second with his newfound source for information.

“Your guess is as good as mine. I don’t hang out with him all that often besides when we smoke together. He seems cool, kinda quiet, but I will say, he smokes a lot. So, if that bothers you, I’d stop while you’re ahead.”

Jinyoung paused, mulling over what Jackson just told him. He wasn’t really sure what to expect from Mark if what Jackson was saying was true. “I’m not sure...I mean I don’t even know if he’s into guys like that.”

“Oh, trust me, he’s  _ definitely  _ into guys like that,” the other laughed.

“What do you mean?”

“We hooked up a couple times last year when we were high, back when I first started smoking.”

“Oh…”

“But, hey, don’t let that stop you from going after him, it was a long time ago, man. Here, let me give you his number.”

“No, no, it’s fine, I don’t want it,” Jinyoung said, smiling softly to ensure Jackson didn’t think he’d somehow hurt his feelings.

“Oh, um, well alright,” Jackson trailed off.

Bambam spoke up after almost being completely forgotten about, “Since that’s over with, can we talk about  _ me _ , now? I have boy problems, too.”

Jinyoung and Jackson looked at each other before rolling their eyes at their friend’s want to always be center of attention. Bambam whined at them as he usually did when his friends picked on him, and they apologized just to satisfy him. Happily taking the less than sincere apology, Bambam began talking about his own infatuation with the boy he’d met at the frat party. He went on for almost an hour, gushing about how much he liked him and how they’d been texting back and forth nonstop since last night. Every time his phone would go off, interrupting him, he would squirm in his seat, asking for advice on how to reply to the text. The entire situation reminded Jinyoung of a high schooler falling in love for the first time, and his lips tugged up, eyes crinkling with his smile at the purity of his best friend’s feelings towards another boy. It wasn’t very often he saw this soft side of Bambam as he usually hid it under his wild personality and habits of casual sex.

The rest of that night was spent lightheartedly, conversation coming and going along with collective laughter and complaints of schoolwork none of them were doing. Jinyoung went back and forth between whether or not he should’ve taken Mark’s number when he had the chance. Feeling as though it’d be strange to contact the other so quickly after the party, he refrained from asking Jackson for it, instead going to bed with his best friend’s back against his.

Sunday came and went in a blur, the three spending the entirety of the day in the campus library getting their assignments done. Jinyoung’s fingers itched then, too, wanting to reach for his phone and ask Jackson to put Mark’s number in it, but he resisted the urge, putting extra concentration into his assignments as a means to forget about him for as long as he could.

When Monday rolled in, along with the company of rain clouds, Jinyoung couldn’t ignore that he was almost looking forward to going to class. He was still unsure of how to feel about Mark, but Jinyoung had always loved a challenge and left for class with his shoulders squared and determined (this time remembering his textbook). Any apprehension he may have been holding onto seemed to wash away as he walked, the comfort of his favorite weather providing reassurance. Despite his suspicions of this boy being not only a stoner, but a player, too, after hearing about Jackson’s relations to him, he still couldn’t shake his stubborn interest. It began to rain as he neared the science building, and Jinyoung ran the rest of the way, trying to stay as dry as possible. Winded and his hair dampened from the rain, he grabbed onto the handle of the classroom’s door and swung it open. He roughed up the hair on his forehead with his hand in an effort to dry it and scanned the room for Mark. He picked him out after a second, finding him across the room towards the back with his earbuds in, watching something on his phone. Making his way over as casually as he could manage, he sat down next to him, looking on expectantly. Mark glanced over, attention on his phone being abandoned for the black haired boy sitting next to him.

“Hey,” Mark said, smiling as he pulled his earbuds from his ears.

“Hi,” Jinyoung mirrored the smile on the other’s face. He noticed the lack of red pigment in the whites of Mark’s eyes, Jackson’s words of advice to get to know him when he isn’t high ringing in his ears. “I see you’re not high this time,” Jinyoung took a risk and joked with the other about his observation, hoping his tone didn’t sound judgmental as it often did when he doted on others. Thankfully, Mark laughed, his eyes crinkling, that boyish quality to him appearing once again from the last time they saw each other in class.

“I’m not high all the time, y’know,” Mark replied.

“Hmm,” Jinyoung lifted his eyebrows in mock indifference, “could’ve fooled me.”

“At least I still remember to bring my textbook to class when I’m high,” Mark quipped.

“Hey, I was having a bad day, at least I brought it today,” Jinyoung said between chuckles. They stared at one another, glints of playfulness lying within their gazes, their friendly teasing beginning to settle between them, leaving silence in its place as neither of them knew what to say.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Mark finally said, speaking so gently it almost came out as a whisper. His face seemed to soften as he looked at the other. Jinyoung couldn’t decipher what the expression meant. “Hey, um, do you have class after this?” Mark asked as the professor walked in.

“Not for a few hours after,” Jinyoung spoke, lowering his voice as the professor began to speak.

“Wanna grab coffee when the lecture’s over?” If Jinyoung had focused just a tad harder on the way Mark had asked him, he would’ve been able to detect the slight timidity in the other’s question.

“Yeah...yeah, sure,” was all Jinyoung said before they both turned their attention to the professor for the rest of the class. In the back of his head, Jinyoung wondered if he should’ve said no, his doubts telling him he may be getting himself into something he’d end up regretting, but for once he silenced them, letting the benefit of the doubt take him wherever it wanted to lead him.

When class finally ended and the two left together, conversation seemed to play a game of hide and seek with them. There were pauses of silence followed by moments filled with words, but neither was suffocating. Mark found comfort in quiet, and Jinyoung had always held a fondness for it, so when they arrived at the coffee shop, having not said a word to each other in several minutes, it didn’t cross either boy’s mind that anything felt stiff. It wasn’t until they ordered and sat down with their drinks that someone finally spoke.

“People usually feel awkward when I don’t talk, I’m surprised you look so comfortable,” Mark said.

“I kinda like silence. I don’t really get much of it anymore,” Jinyoung smiled, the statement feeling bittersweet while the other nodded, sympathizing. “Have you always been so quiet?”

“Ever since I was little,” a pause while Mark took a sip of his coffee, “when I was in elementary school, all the kids in my class thought I had superpowers because I didn’t talk. Like how Cyclops from the X-Men has to wear special glasses so he doesn’t shoot lasers out of his eyes and kill everybody? They thought it was like that but with my voice. They used to call me Banshee,” Mark started laughing, reminiscing of the memories of his days in grade school. “I thought it was pretty cool, to be honest,” he added. 

Jinyoung chuckled before sharing some of his own childhood stories, mentioning how everyone thought he was pretentious in middle school due to his habits of ignoring his classmates in favor of reading books and adhering to the school’s strict rules. He earned an “Oh God” from the boy sitting across from him when he told him he once wrote up 30 kids in one day as hall monitor.

“What happened to that Jinyoung?” Mark questioned.

“I met my best friend that’s what happened,” Jinyoung sighed dramatically as he smiled thinking about Bambam. 

“You seem fond of him,” Mark was watching Jinyoung’s expression observantly.

“Yeah, he’s cool, a bit of a handful if I’m being honest. He probably hates me right now, though, since I ditched him to hang out with you,” Jinyoung acted nonchalant as he spoke but waited attentively as to how Mark would react to what he’d just confessed.

“Is that so?” Mark giggled, causing Jinyoung’s lips to turn up into a grin. Silence fell between them again as they watched each other, both trying to gauge what the other was thinking. Neither boy was attempting to tiptoe around the other, already feeling comfortable and friendly, but there was still a trace of ambiguity between them that they were simultaneously trying to uncover without the use of words. Jinyoung drank the rest of his coffee and looked out the window at the clouds, his stomach churning with Mark’s prolonged staring. When he looked back over at him, he was checking the time on his phone, his eyebrows raising at the time that’d passed.

Letting out a mumbled “fuck”, Mark stood up and slid his phone back in his pocket. “Sorry to rush out like this, but I have a class in 10 minutes and it’s all the way across campus, so if I don’t leave now, I’m gonna be late.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jinyoung reassured him, “I understand.” And, before he could second guess himself, he pulled a pen out from his bag, jotting down his number in scrawled penmanship across a brown napkin on the table. “Here,” he handed it to Mark, “in case you want to grab coffee again and pick up where we left off.”

Mark smiled at the gesture, nodding and pulling his bottom lip into his mouth by his teeth. He walked out the door, waving through the glass window of the coffee shop from the sidewalk and dashing down the street towards campus. A twinge of disappointment sank into the dip of Jinyoung’s chest over their time with each other being cut short. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling for Mark, but he knew he liked him regardless. The boy’s personality seemed to align with Jinyoung’s in a complementary yet adjacent way. Parts of him were so similar to Jinyoung yet other parts were the complete opposite--the perfect balance.

Jinyoung remained in the coffee shop for another hour, choosing to start on the reading for his physics class while he had the time. Halfway through, his phone interrupted his concentration, lighting up and dinging as a text message came in. A second message popped up shortly after the first one.

 

**From: Unknown Number**

i didn’t say this before i left but i had a really nice time

 

**From: Unknown Number**

this is mark by the way

 

Jinyoung’s lips subconsciously twisted up into a smile, laughing under his breath at the second text. Quickly typing back a reply that he also had a good time talking with him, he slipped his textbook in his bag, taking this interruption as his cue to leave for his next class. Strolling down the sidewalk, he thought about how comfortable Mark had felt, a stark difference from the intimidation that melted into his aura when he was stoned. Jinyoung’s uncertainty from before seemed entirely irrational now that he had some sort of acquaintance with the other, his second thoughts from before shifting to make room for hopefulness. Jackson’s warning of Mark’s smoking habits still lingered at the back of his mind, but the time spent in the coffee shop with him made Jinyoung reconsider every preconceived notion he’d had. It made him wonder how many opportunities he’d missed out on due to his habit of making pessimistic assumptions. He wasn’t naive enough to believe the part of Mark he saw in the coffee shop was the only side of him that existed, but if this version of him was the foundation of his character, Jinyoung was convinced he would be content with the rest of him.

He made it to his class early, so he took a seat on a nearby bench, still texting back and forth with Mark and sending a quick text to Bambam asking if he wanted to meet up later (to which Bambam immediately replied with an attitude but was still loyal enough to his best friend that he said yes). Mark and Jinyoung conversed back and forth about their classes, Jinyoung hardly noticing when students started filing into the classroom he was sitting out in front of and subsequently had to rush to take a seat before class started. Engulfed in his phone, he passively listened to his professor’s lecture, all the information he’d need to know for an upcoming project going in one ear and out the other. His head tilted down at his lap, staring at his phone the entire hour and a half, only shooting up when he thought the professor was about to scold him. He caught the last bit of the lesson when it was mentioned that the professor would be emailing out the requirements for the project before slinging his bag over his shoulder and walking out, eyes still glued to his phone screen as he sent a text to Bambam, letting him know his last class was over for the day and he could stop by his dorm whenever. Finally putting his phone away as his conversation with Mark had died out for the time being, he sighed in contentment, stuffing his hands in his pant pockets as he took the long way back to the dorms, enjoying the crisp air of the California winter. The gloomy weather from mid morning had subsided to sunny, blue skies, the sunlight filtering through the small trees lining the sidewalks leaving tangled shadows across the pavement. Jinyoung smiled at a baby being pushed by in a stroller, his mood oozing out of him in thick waves, leaking into happy interactions with strangers he would normally overlook in passing.

When he finally stepped up to the front of the dorm building, Bambam was already waiting, greeting him with a “Hey, asshole” to which Jinyoung laughed, his best friend’s grudge over being ditched for a charming boy in his physics class not enough to shake how good the day had been so far.

“I’m serious, you’re a traitor, how could you leave me to hang out by myself just to be with a guy you refuse to date? You didn’t even tell me you weren’t coming, I literally sat here for half an hour before figuring you weren’t gonna show,” Bambam continued, pestering Jinyoung despite knowing he’d forgive him within the next few minutes.

“You could’ve just hung out with that crush of yours since you had some free time,” Jinyoung shrugged, guilt nonexistent.

“I was going to, but I got nervous when I was about to ask and pussied out.”

Jinyoung didn’t even have to look at Bambam, he could hear the frown in his voice, that same feeling of young love from before causing him to find Bambam’s dilemma almost too endearing. They carried on their conversation inside as they got in the elevator, heading up to Jinyoung’s dorm.

“Bambam,  _ the  _ Kunpimook Bhuwakul, is nervous over a boy? How did this happen?”

“Jinyoung,” his best friend pouted, “I’m serious. I don’t know what to do, I’ve never felt like this over a guy before. I really like him, and I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of him.”

“Um, not to burst your bubble, but I’m pretty sure you already did that at the party. Need I remind you how drunk you were?”

“Yeah, but he was drunk, too, so that doesn’t count. What if he doesn’t like me when I’m sober?”

Jinyoung shook his head as he unlocked the door to his room, amused at the parallel of Bambam’s situation to his. The two somehow felt similar yet completely flipped inside out. As if summoned by the thought of him, Jinyoung’s phone vibrated in his pocket, a banner gleaming across the screen.

 

**From: Mark**

if you’re not busy later tonight do you wanna swing by my apartment?

 

**From: Mark**

you can invite some friends if you want, a couple of mine will be there

 

Seeing a perfect opportunity arising, Jinyoung wasted no time to reply.

 

**To: Mark**

yeah sure send me the address

 

Still looking at the texts, Jinyoung sat at the foot of his bed, taking his shoes off before snickering at the other boy sitting at his desk, “Today’s your lucky day, Bam, we’ve got plans, and you can invite your crush, too. What’s his name again?”

“Yugyeom...” Bambam already sounded nervous.

“Well, tell Yugyeom we’re hanging out at a friend’s place tonight and he’s welcome to join us.”

“What do you mean? What friend?”

“Mark invited me over and said I could bring a couple friends, so I figured I’ll do you a favor, y’know, be there when you meet Yugyeom again, make sure you don’t make a total fool out of yourself.”

It took a moment for Bambam to say anything--he was hesitant but all the more relieved with the safety of having Jinyoung with him when he would meet up with Yugyeom again. “Yeah...yeah, okay, I’ll tell him.”

Jinyoung laughed under his breath at the transformation of Bambam’s usual confident personality, having never seen this side of him since he’d known him. “I can tell how nervous you are. It’s gonna be fine, Bambam, don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll love you even when he’s not intoxicated,” he reassured. As much as he wanted to tease Bambam, he knew the other was most likely feeling vulnerable, his ego being abandoned for self doubt over his obvious developing feelings for this boy.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Bambam said, sounding as though he was trying to convince himself he’d be fine rather than actually agreeing with Jinyoung.

Another text from Mark popped up on Jinyoung’s phone with the address of the apartment in addition to a message to come by around eight. Jinyoung sent a quick thumbs up emoji before falling back against his bed, wondering which part of Mark would be uncovered this time. As much as he enjoyed the company of the version of the boy he’d spoken with at the coffee shop earlier, he had a running streak of inconsistency when it came to his personality, at least from what Jinyoung had gathered. Something about it ignited intrigue in him, though, feeling as though he was solving some sort of riddle. Every time he saw Mark, he felt like he was one step closer to decoding him, another puzzle piece in place, another clue unveiled. Jinyoung just wasn’t sure what the end result was supposed to be, and more importantly, what he wanted it to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok wow i did not mean to take this long to update, but i'm dealing with some of the worst writer's block i've ever had. i'm thinking it'll get better once the story picks up, but i'm so sorry it took me this long to get another chapter up :(( i promise i'm not abandoning this fic, though, so don't worry! i hope this chapter wasn't too disappointing, i know i'm not all that satisfied with how it turned out. i'm going to try my hardest to get the next chapter up quicker, so bare with me folks lol besides that, i was thinking of making a curiouscat where you guys can send questions, feedback, etc. about the fic and updates (or just to scream at me to update if u want tbh) as well as any suggestions for oneshots or future fics you'd like to see, so if that's something any of you would be interested in, let me know!! thanks for reading<3 <3


	3. Chapter 3

Jinyoung and Bambam didn’t meet up with Yugyeom and leave the dorms until half past 8 pm. Fortunately, Mark lived in an apartment complex a couple blocks away from the main campus, making it a relatively short walk over. Nevertheless, things were awkward the first few minutes. Bambam was still feeling nervous and was doing a shit job at hiding it, so Jinyoung took the initiative to introduce himself to Yugyeom and ease the silence. He made small talk and gave Bambam time to breathe before he regained his confidence and joined the conversation. As soon as he began to let loose again, it was as if Bambam had never been nervous. The two boys immediately hit it off, consequently making Jinyoung almost feel like a third wheel when he was the one who’d made the plans in the first place. He listened to their conversation as they rounded the corner two streets over, interjecting only occasionally with sarcastic remarks that earned synced laughter from the two boys. As he watched them interact, Jinyoung began to grow a mild fondness for Yugyeom despite how little time he’d spent with him. Internally, he prayed him and Bambam would last.

When they reached the outside of the apartments, Jinyoung texted Mark to let him know they were here, and he swiftly responded with his apartment number and floor. Upon walking into the lobby of the complex, Jinyoung could tell it was more upscale than the average place. The interior hinted at wealthier residents but lacked the extravagance and gaudiness normally found in the more expensive apartments downtown. Even so, the three still felt at awe (and out of place) at the stark difference between the shiny, waxed marble floors of the lobby to the scuffed up linoleum floors they were accustomed to at student residence. The walls had various paintings hanging on them--no doubt they cost a pretty penny--and the front desk was a sleek, dark-washed wood. It was minimalistic and clean yet entirely luxurious. 

Deciding not to stand in the lobby too long and draw unwanted attention to themselves from the receptionist, they made their way to the elevators and took one up to the ninth floor. They walked down the hall until they came up to the assumed door of Mark’s apartment, and Jinyoung knocked, listening for voices on the other side of it. Expecting to be met with Mark when the door swung on its hinges, both Jinyoung and Bambam were surprised when Jackson came face to face with them.

“What the?” Jackson’s loud giggle rang through the hall in disbelief before turning back around to yell to Mark, “Jinyoung’s the friend you invited over?”

Somewhere from inside, Jinyoung heard the other boy reply, “Yeah, why? Do you know him?”

“Yeah, I know him! We met like two years ago when I started rooming with his best friend,” Jackson held the door open wider, letting the three boys walk in through the hallway leading to the living room and trailing right behind as the door shut behind him. Jinyoung noticed upon walking in that the air looked hazy, which he knew could only mean one thing. His suspicions were proved to be true when he made it to the living room and saw Mark sitting on the couch taking a hit from a bong, his feet propped up on a coffee table littered with beer bottles and a baggy of weed.  He looked up at him after exhaling, smiling and scooting over from his spot on the edge of the couch to make room for him, patting the cushion beside him as invitation for Jinyoung to sit. He sauntered over and took a seat while Bambam briefly introduced Yugyeom to Jackson. They eventually sat down, Bambam and Yugyeom on a smaller leather couch adjacent to the one Jinyoung and Mark were on, and Jackson in between Mark and two other friends.

“Before I forget, that’s Wonpil and that’s Sungjin,”  Mark spoke, pointing at the two guys sitting on the opposite end of the couch. Both looked over at the mention of their names. “Guys, this is Jinyoung.” The three said brief hellos to each other before Jinyoung introduced Bambam and Yugyeom, everyone getting acquainted with each other before splitting off into their own conversations again.

“So, is that the alleged best friend you ditched for me? He’s not mad, is he?” Mark leaned in and asked, directing his gaze towards Bambam speaking animatedly to the boy next to him.

“He was a little upset at first, but he can’t hold grudges for the life of him, so it resolved itself pretty quickly,” Jinyoung replied, looking over at Mark, who’d already turned to stare back at him. He nodded in response. “How long have you known Wonpil and Sungjin?”

“A little over a year. They’ve known each other since they were young, but I met both of them in one of my classes freshman year, and we’ve been friends since.”

Their conversation lulled for a moment as Mark took another hit from the bong before passing it off to Jackson. “Do you want anything to drink? I probably should’ve asked earlier when you first came in.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jinyoung replied, getting up as Mark did. He felt a hand at his lower back as he took a few steps forward in order for Mark to get around him and lead him to to the kitchen. The gesture shot electricity through his spine. It was short lived, though, as the hand immediately dropped once the other boy was able to get past. On their way to the kitchen, Jinyoung began to notice just how spacious Mark’s one bedroom apartment really was. The living room was large enough to fit two couches with plenty of extra room, and the kitchen was down another hall, completely separate from the living area, with a breakfast nook big enough for a small table to eat at, and Jinyoung hadn’t even seen the other side of his apartment where the bedroom was. He could only imagine how much bigger Mark’s room was compared his cramped dorm room.

“Your apartment’s pretty nice,” Jinyoung thought aloud once they entered the kitchen.

“You think so? I like it, but there’s so much room, sometimes it feels kinda weird being the only person living here,” Mark said, popping the fridge open to display all the drinks he had available, which wasn’t much. The bottom shelf only held a (what Jinyoung assumed was new) jumbo pack of beer, a cheap bottle of wine, a carton of orange juice, and a milk jug shoved all the way to the back with hardly enough left for a bowl of cereal. “I have water, too, if you’d rather drink that,” he offhandedly added.

“No, that’s okay, beer’s fine with me,” Jinyoung reached in and grabbed one of the brown bottles before moving to close the fridge door only to have Mark do the same. Their hands collided, Mark’s laying overtop Jinyoung’s.

“Sorry,” they spoke at the same time. Jinyoung pulled his hand away and scratched his head, laughing under his breath out of awkwardness. The moment felt all too familiar. Mark shut the fridge and mentioned that they should probably get back to the others--they’d only been gone a minute at most, so Jinyoung figured that was his way of filling the silence--and began walking to the doorway. He turned his head to double check Jinyoung was following before leading the way back to the living room.

When they walked in, Bambam and Yugyeom were both taking hits from the bong now, whispering things into each other’s ears before giggling like school girls. Jinyoung knew it was too early for either of them to be high, so it was obvious things were finally beginning to heat up between them despite how platonic they’d seemed on the walk over. He shook his head, amused. 

Things only grew messy as the night went on when everyone besides Jinyoung started getting high. Jackson insisted on trying to make out with everyone, professing how much he loved and cared about them before wrapping his arms around them and leaning in only to be shoved off. Jinyoung found it hilarious until he was the target, Jackson practically climbing over Mark’s lap to try and kiss him. The only person who’d managed to escape Jackson’s affection was Mark. In fact, it seemed as though he’d completely avoided any attempts to make out with him altogether--Jinyoung acted like he hadn’t noticed. Mark was more focused on Jinyoung, however, to mind losing out on any sloppy intimacy with someone else (although Bambam and Yugyeom were sure not to. They were currently sucking each other’s faces off on the other couch). 

Mark was undoubtedly just as high as the rest of the people in the room, but he almost could’ve played it off like he wasn’t if that same intimidating aura Jinyoung had felt at the party hadn’t reappeared. Every time Jinyoung spoke, Mark’s eyes would trail down to his lips, watching the way they moved before flickering back up to his eyes, occasionally licking his own lips. When he spoke, his words were often flirtatious and ambiguous, leaving Jinyoung to try to read between the lines, if there were any lines to read between at all. But if Mark was going to play this game, so was Jinyoung, so he followed suit, his words becoming open-ended and suggestive as their conversation progressed. The atmosphere shifted between them the more they talked. Soon, Mark’s arm was draped across the couch behind Jinyoung, and they were both turned to face one another, legs pressed against the other’s and leaning into each other’s space.  Somehow, Jinyoung’s hand made it to Mark’s thigh after he made a joke and fell into a fit of laughter. He watched as Mark’s eyebrow twitched up in question before he shyly pulled his hand back into his own lap.

Wonpil and Sungjin were the first ones to leave for the night, saying they had early morning classes tomorrow before going. Mark shook his head when the door finally shut, telling Jinyoung that was always their excuse when, really, they just wanted to leave so they could fool around with each other. Of course, both boys insisted they were straight, though, which, by the ring of Mark’s laugh, Jinyoung could tell was far from the truth.

An hour or two later, Jackson, Bambam, and Yugyeom decided it was time to go--it was well past midnight at this point, and they all had classes and work in the morning (including Jinyoung). They slowly walked towards the hallway before noticing Jinyoung hadn’t gotten up from his spot on the couch next to Mark.

“You coming?” Bambam asked confusedly.

“Uhh,” he stalled for a moment, “I’m just gonna stay a little longer and help Mark clean up. You guys don’t have to wait up.” For some reason, Jinyoung just wasn’t ready to leave quite yet, something anchoring him here in this apartment with Mark.

“Yeah, sure, we’ll see you later,” Jackson said, not before giving him a look Jinyoung could only interpret as an “I know what you’re up to” look.

They left after that, Bambam and Yugyeom arm in arm along with Jackson following behind them like a chaperone.

“You don’t have to stay behind, you know, there’s not that much to clean up,” Mark said as both of them began reaching for the empty beer bottles on the table.

“I don’t mind. Besides, I didn’t want to leave you to clean everything up yourself.”

Mark only hummed in response, grinning softly.

It was quiet for the duration of time spent cleaning up, both boys weaving back and forth between the kitchen and the living room. Mark was right, there wasn’t much to clean--they were finished within a couple minutes, so while Mark washed his bong out in the sink, Jinyoung went back over to the couch and sat down. Taking this alone time to really observe the room around him, admiring the few family photos Mark had on his mantle above the fireplace. As his eyes swept over the room, he noticed a glass door leading out to a balcony in the corner that he hadn’t seen earlier. Curious, he walked over and stepped out onto it--the door was already pushed open (probably to air out some of the smoke). He leaned on the railing, the air chilling him and raising goosebumps up his arms, but the view was something unreal. The apartment wasn’t outrageously high off the ground, but it sat in the air at just the right spot, amidst all of the skyscrapers around them. The lights illuminated the night below him, reflecting up the sides of the buildings and leaving a dim glow across Jinyoung’s face. He stared in wonderment for what felt like an eternity before Mark finally came out onto the balcony with him.

“There you are.”

“Sorry, you probably thought I just disappeared,” Jinyoung let out a breathy laugh, “I didn’t realize you had a balcony.”

“Pretty, isn’t it?” Mark asked, looking out at the span of the cityscape in front of them. He had stood right next to Jinyoung then, their shoulders brushing against one another as they watched the world nine stories down. Jinyoung couldn’t remember if he had sighed out an answer of agreement or if he’d just thought to. He also wasn’t sure how long they were standing out there for; it could’ve been minutes or even hours, but it didn’t matter. Both would’ve felt the same. Silence enveloped them once more. Time slowed and stilled.

Now, Jinyoung hadn’t meant to say this aloud, but somehow it’d escaped his lips, anyway. 

“You know, I can’t seem to figure you out.” 

Mark looked at him, but he didn’t look back.

“What’s there to figure out, Jinyoung?”

A pause.

“Everything.”

The atmosphere shifted between them for the second time that night, Jinyoung finally turning his head and meeting Mark’s gaze. Neither of them spoke, and somewhere along this timeline, Mark’s hand had folded over Jinyoung’s wrist. They both seemed to have inched themselves toward each other. They were so close, their noses were merely centimeters apart. A few more seconds and their lips---

A car alarm blared down on the street, like some sort of siren to snap Jinyoung out of whatever trance he’d been in. He turned away from Mark, staring back out at the city. He waited a moment before saying anything.

“I should probably get going, I have work in the morning,” Jinyoung spoke softly.

“I’ll drive you back.”

“Mark, you’re high...” he trailed off.

“Right, yeah, I forgot about that,” Mark bit the inside of his cheek, his lips pursing. Coming from anyone else, Jinyoung would’ve replied with some snarky comment about what a ridiculous thing that was to forget, but he refrained.

“I’ll see you in class?” Jinyoung proposed this as a question rather than a suggestion, as if inadvertently asking if Mark still wanted to see him.

“Yeah, definitely,” Mark didn’t hesitate to offer a smile. They walked back into the apartment, and he followed Jinyoung to the door. Jinyoung said a quick goodbye before heading down the hall to the elevators. 

On his way down the sidewalk, en route to the dorms, he thought about the balcony, and how close they had gotten to kissing. He was still finding it hard to process the past thirty minutes. He couldn’t recall how they’d even ended up in the position they had been in out there.  _ Could I have gotten high off the smoke? _ Jinyoung thought to himself.  _ Is that even possible?  _ Either way, Jinyoung was reeling with clouds of thoughts hanging over him, and he ultimately decided to leave it alone to swim around his head like he always did until he had more energy to think it over.

He stood in the dorm lobby for a moment to figure out whether he wanted to sleep in his own room and risk waking Jaebum or just stay at Bambam’s again. He ended up choosing the latter, knowing at least him or Jackson would still be awake to answer the door when he knocked. Jackson turned out to be the one who opened the door, Bambam nowhere to be found. It didn’t take much effort to realize his best friend was most likely spending the night at Yugyeom’s--Bambam was always quick to get in bed with anyone he was remotely interested in. Jinyoung crawled into Bambam’s bed, turning on his side to face Jackson.

“So…” Jackson looked at him expectantly with his head laid on the pillow of his own bed, hair messed.

“Nothing happened, Jackson,” Jinyoung said, “I really only helped him clean up.”

“Do you wish something would’ve happened?”

Jinyoung paused for a moment to think before speaking, “I don’t know. Maybe. We almost kissed before I left. I pulled away, though.”

“Why?”

“I’m not sure…”

Truthfully, Jinyoung knew he still held reservations towards getting involved with Mark. Although he enjoyed his company despite his hobbies, he was still holding himself back. Maybe for the sake of feeling more secure in whatever relationship they’d built within the past few weeks, or maybe out of fear that it might develop into something he didn’t want. He wasn’t sure much about anything since meeting Mark, he’d come to realize. And he’d like to say he wasn’t afraid, because he knew that wasn’t it, but he didn’t know what else to call the apprehension clinging to him.

“I just don’t know where this will go, and I don’t want to end up regretting it,” Jinyoung said, long after either of them had spoken. It almost startled Jackson when he’d heard his voice; sleep had begun to drag him under. He was awake long enough to respond, though.

“Don’t let the idea of regret hold you back, Jinyoung. You’ve spent too long worrying yourself over what-if’s.” And then Jackson was asleep, leaving Jinyoung to roam around his brain.

 

* * *

 

 

Jinyoung was uncharacteristically passive at work the next day, so much so that almost all of his employees noticed, especially Youngjae. He would ask Jinyoung dim-witted questions or make inappropriate jokes as means to try to get any sort of rise out of him, but Jinyoung paid no attention. His usual charisma that won over all of the customers was vacant from him, as well, instead replaced with little words and soft, almost melancholic smiles. An older woman he was waiting on who frequented the restaurant stopped him before he left with her order. She asked if he was feeling alright. Jinyoung politely nodded, explaining he just had a lot on his mind and thanking her for her concern. The woman patted his hand the way a grandmother would her grandchild and gave him encouraging words matched with gracious, wise eyes. Unlike with the other customers, the smile Jinyoung returned to her was warm and real. Nothing else was spoken between the two besides a “Can I get you refill?” here and a “Yes, please” there, but when he came back to her table after she’d left to grab her receipt, he noticed a message scrawled in blue pen at the bottom of the one she was meant to take with her.

 

_ If they make you think about them this much, don’t deny yourself the luxury of being with them. _

 

Jinyoung stared at the words for several minutes, astonished that the woman had been able to read him the way she had, but not entirely surprised at the fact. He folded the receipt and pocketed it. Strangely, he felt she wanted him to keep it. He thought back to what Jackson had said to him last night--the similarity in his advice to the woman’s was unmistakable.

He decided to take his break then, grabbing his free meal from the kitchen on his way outside to sit at a picnic table behind the restaurant to eat. Youngjae followed shortly after, sitting right across from him and staring at him, not bothered to even touch his food.

“Jinyoung, are you okay?” Youngjae asked worriedly, their shared mother tongue slipping from his mouth (more than likely to give them some privacy from their coworkers), “you seem...sad.”

“I’m not sad, Youngjae, just thinking a lot.”

“I feel like you’re thinking too much, hyung.”

Jinyoung laughed at this, “You’re probably right.”

“Well, what are you thinking so hard about, then?”

Jinyoung picked at his food, trying to decide how much he should tell Youngjae. “Have you ever felt like you liked somebody you know you probably shouldn’t?” he asked instead.

“Like someone who’s a bad person?”

“Not a bad person, more like someone who might not last.”

Youngjae was quiet in thought for a moment, “No, I don’t think I have.”

Jinyoung sighed--he didn’t know what he expected to get out of this conversation.

“But, I think if I did,” Youngjae continued from his previous thought, “I’d be with them anyway, if they were nice.”

“Why?” Jinyoung’s eyebrows were scrunched together.

“I think the memories are worth it, even if the time spent together is short-lived.”

“When did you get so...insightful?” Jinyoung chuckled, partially taken aback by Youngjae’s introspective answer. It seemed everyone around him had the answers to everything meanwhile Jinyoung was still fumbling around in the dark. Youngjae beamed.

After their talk, Jinyoung found it easier to return back to his usual witty and sarcastic self. He finished the second half of his shift recharged, charming his customers and collecting phone numbers like he always did. After closing the restaurant and locking it up, he walked with Youngjae to the convenience store, and bought him the food he owed him from his last shift.

Talking with his mouth full, and receiving a  _ tsk tsk  _ from Jinyoung, Youngjae said, “You know what I’ve noticed about you? You’re really pessimistic.” Jinyoung stared at him before he quickly added, “It’s just something I’ve observed.”

“I’m not offended if that’s what you’re thinking.You’re not the first one to tell me that.”

“Is there a reason you’re like that?”

“Not really, I guess it’s just out of habit. It’s how I’ve always been. I don’t like to get my hopes up, I guess.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, hyung, but I think you could use a little hope.”

They laughed in unison, the conversation dissipating into comfortable silence (and munching on Youngjae’s part) until they said their goodbyes to each other and departed for their separate homes.

Jinyoung spent yet another bus ride to the dorms lost in thought. This time, though, it had less to do with the boy causing the thoughts. He was concentrated on all the advice he’d been given in the past day, and everything seemed to stem from his apparent lack of optimism. Jinyoung had always pegged himself to be rather self aware, but he’d completely overlooked the effect his negativity had on himself. Sure, he’d known his poor attitude towards life was a problem, but he never felt he’d been denying himself anything. That is until today. Until the start of the semester when he’d met Mark, an anomaly in his routine of work and school. Until he knew he had wanted to kiss Mark on that balcony and avoided it instead.

So, when the bus dropped him off, and he walked up to his dorm room, swinging the door open, he tuned out Jaebum’s immediate complaints, giving him no time of day. He sat down on his bed and pulled the old woman’s receipt out of his pocket to read it over once more. Memorizing the way the ink looped into cursive letters across the bottom of it, he told himself he was allowed to want things, and he was allowed to have them. No more what-if’s, no more hesitation. He was going to let himself have this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, alright, the 3rd chapter's finally here!! i hope you enjoyed!! sorry it's a bit shorter than the last two, things are finally gonna start picking up in the coming chapters, so i felt i should stop this one here for ~~suspense~~ i guess?? i don't know, i just don't want too much going on in a chapter at a time, i feel like it'd get cluttered. anyways, thanks for reading!!! i really appreciate the kudos and comments you guys leave, it warms my big ol' sensitive heart :')


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what the fuck is up bird nation lmao bet you'd thought you'd seen the last of stoner mark huh? me too tbh

So maybe Jinyoung was still hesitant. While he was no longer denying his attraction to Mark, old habits die hard, and pessimism was sewn into Jinyoung like stitches. He found it hard to adhere to the advice he’d been given like he’d told himself he would when he fell asleep the night before, the cogs in his brain turning until they’d found a way to pacify any form of optimism left. However apprehensive, though, Jinyoung was sure of his want to be in Mark’s company, and while he was aware his attraction might create problems in the future, he was willing to be a little selfish and risk it if it meant more time with him. After all, he was allowed to have that much, he told himself, he just wouldn’t act on his lust. He was in control.

The next time he saw Mark, it was as if the night on the balcony had never happened. He’d made it to class before Mark had, sitting quietly as he scrolled through various social medias on his phone when a backpack was slung on top of the small desk along with a limp, bony body in the seat next to him, a smile rounding out the cheeks on the boy’s face. Nervous at first that Mark might bring up what almost happened between them, Jinyoung tried to make himself look busy as he flipped open his textbook and greeted the other. If Mark noticed him feigning indifference, he chose to save Jinyoung the embarrassment and ignore it, and the more seconds passed without a word from Mark about the night on the balcony, the more Jinyoung began to feel relieved, his stiff posture relaxing as he talked to Mark until class began.

Turns out, though, Jinyoung’s relaxation wouldn’t last long as the professor announced the first project of the semester, explaining the requirements and grade breakdown before instructing the students to group up in fours and ending the class early. It only took a matter of moments for both Jinyoung and Mark to agree on partnering up, either due to not knowing many people in the class or more likely, other reasons gone unmentioned. Jinyoung scanned the other classmates around them, choosing to ask two other boys sitting further down their row if they’d be willing to pair up. Quickly obliging, the boys introduced themselves to each other and decided to head straight to the library in order to get a headstart on the project.

There was a reason the professor advised the class to group up--the workload was intense. The entirety of it consisted of large amounts of research and even more analyses, a report with an ungodly word count, and a curated presentation prepared for the class based on the information they’d gathered and dissected. Thinking about the sheer absurdity that made up the size of the project made Jinyoung’s head spin. The work was going to span well over a couple weeks, and their professor had already mentioned classes would continue to progress as laid out on the syllabus, meaning Jinyoung would somehow have to juggle a project on top of ongoing lessons and assignments from the same class as well as others. And, more impendingly, Jinyoung would also have to squeeze this in between his shifts at work (and his ever growing fascination for the boy currently sitting across from him at the library, but that was besides the point). The thought of just how much stress he was about to endure was a migraine in and of itself.

Mark looked up from the book open in front of him as if sensing Jinyoung’s blood pressure spiking while he thought about the work he was in for. He gave him a thin smile before turning his attention back to what he was reading, and something that felt quite a bit like disappointment settled in the center of Jinyoung’s chest, He felt as though he was losing time he could’ve spent alone with Mark, learning the ins and outs of the boy he’d become so curious about as he became all too aware of the other two bodies occupying the table they were sat at. He sighed inwardly, his phone vibrating in his pocket, signaling he was receiving a phone call. Checking the caller ID, Jinyoung briefly excused himself, stepping out of the library before answering. His manager was on the other line when he picked up, which only meant one thing--he needed something from him. As if his stress threshold wasn’t already being pushed to its limit, more weight was placed on his shoulders the more his manager spoke. His brain felt like a balloon about ready to pop.

“Jinyoung, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Minhyuk quit earlier today, and,” his manager sighed, “you know we’re already short staffed as is.”

Jinyoung didn’t need to hear the rest of what his manager was about to say to know where this phone call was headed.

“I’m in a bit of a bind here. I don’t have many options until I find someone to replace him, and you’re the best waiter we got, so I was hoping you’d be available to pick up his shifts until we can hire someone new.”

Feeling as though he didn’t have much of a choice to refuse given the nature of the situation, and knowing he’d enjoy having the extra money, Jinyoung replied, “Yeah...yeah sure I’ll pick up the shifts, just text me my updated schedule, and I’ll be there.” 

His manager thanked him, apologizing repeatedly for the trouble and promising to email his new schedule to him as soon as possible before Jinyoung hung up and made his way through the library bookshelves back to his shared table with his groupmates. Jinyoung huffed as he sat down, tugging his hand through his hair as he tried to mentally plan out how he was going to make all of his responsibilities fit into one schedule. His phone vibrated in his hand. Assuming it was the message containing his new work schedule, he swiped open the notification without looking only to be met with a text from Mark instead.

 

**From: Mark**

you okay over there?

 

Jinyoung looked up to find Mark watching him inquisitively, observing his reaction to the message. Mildly taken aback by the attentiveness of the man, he took a minute to type a reply back.

 

**To: Mark**

just stress

 

This seemed like a good enough response to his question because Mark pursed his lips in that pitying yet understanding way people sometimes do to make you feel less alone before putting his phone down and continuing to read through the book he’d pulled from the nonfiction section earlier. Using the project as a distraction to the tsunami of stress he was about to endure, Jinyoung dove headfirst into the task at hand, pulling up an article on his laptop to read through.

The rest of the time in the library was spent quietly, everyone too engulfed with their own contributions to the project to bother creating any sort of conversation. The boys left one by one for their other classes as the morning bled into the afternoon, Jinyoung last to leave the library as Mondays were usually one of his less busier days. Looking through the email with his new work schedule, though, it seemed that wouldn’t be the case anymore. His manager had failed to relay his extra shifts would begin this evening, just after his last class of the day ended, leaving Jinyoung to feel frazzled by the abrupt change and, truthfully, pretty fucking pissed. His last few hours of the day gave him time to cool down before he left for work, but his contempt for the situation still lingered below the customer service smile plastered on his face when he walked through the front doors of the restaurant.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The following weeks became a balancing act of work and school, Jinyoung losing more and more sleep as shifts got longer and assignments grew in density. He only ever saw his friends in passing, spending five minutes to chat before rushing off to tend to his responsibilities. The only redeeming factor from the weeks of stress and sleepless nights was how often Jinyoung got to see Mark outside of class, albeit with the company of their other group mates, but Jinyoung hardly cared at this point. With the routine of working late shifts only to wake up early for lectures and spending his precious days off from class couped up in the restaurant, Jinyoung savored the time he sat in the library or in Mark’s apartment, numbing his labored mind with his, surprisingly reassuring, company. That and whatever secondhand high he may or may not have been subjected to while working in Mark’s living room. 

Jinyoung had asked him the second or third time he’d come over to work on the project and Mark pulled out a baggy of weed if it actually did anything useful for him. Mark explained it was just a way to relax himself while he sifted through the work but also mentioned how it “turned him into Einstein if he got high enough”. Jinyoung scoffed at the last part. Regardless, he didn’t care why Mark smoked anymore. The part of himself that’d been wary of the stoner’s habits had long since fled, especially now with the image of him, joint in hand, smoke snaking out of his mouth as he stared at Jinyoung with a half-lidded smirk that left him shifting in his seat whenever he recalled it was burned into his mind. He couldn’t tell if his other two classmates had ever noticed the thickening tension between him and Mark after spending ample amounts of hours in that apartment with them, but if they did, they never said anything.

If Jinyoung really thought about it, visits to Mark’s place always ended the same way. Their classmates would leave first, everyone agreeing on when they’d meet next to continue working on the project, and then the door would shut and Mark would get up to sit closer to Jinyoung. There was something daring in his eyes every time he got high, the bold part of his personality, often masked by his reserved nature, unleashed with a nudge from the weed. They would talk well past the time Jinyoung should’ve left to go home and sleep, Jinyoung too content with the ease that came with being around Mark to make wiser decisions.

Laughter and conversation would float around the large apartment for hours, words flowing out of Mark more easily than they usually would, and Jinyoung feeding off it. There was always a certain point in the night when their voices would muffle into silence, though, the air around them sucking out all sound, the two trapped in some sort of vacuum together. Both boys would stare at each other, silently egging the other on, daring the other to push their boundaries and lean in, but the moment would be gone as fast as it came, Jinyoung shifting their attention to something else upon realizing what he was doing. 

He was no idiot--he was quite aware Mark was playing at the same attraction Jinyoung was harboring towards him, touches on knees and arms would linger longer than they should, conversations were laced with suggestive undertones. Jinyoung knew he had to be absolutely insane to believe there was nothing about this friendship to read into, but he was also notorious for getting cold feet. His pessimistic thought process usually rang fairly true for him, and he found it easy (and probably too much so) to snuff out any outcome that relied on hope only. And with how particular he was about the decisions he made--even more so about the ones that felt important--it made it a lot harder for him to come to a conclusion when the solution felt so weighted. So, Jinyoung decided it was futile to bother pushing the limits of his relationship with Mark, knowing it’d only add one more thing for him to overthink in the midst of the clusterfuck of other responsibilities swamping his brain.

Despite this, however, Jinyoung learned a lot about Mark from the continuous weeknights sitting in his living room. He found out Mark had lived in California most of his life, minus the short moves to different countries because of his father’s work. He learned just how quiet Mark could be, especially when he was concentrated, although he already suspected as much from that day in the coffee shop. Mark also knew how to solve a rubix cube in under three minutes--under two if he was high. And, despite obviously having the money, he almost always had barren cupboards and a nearly empty fridge, the only outliers being random packets of ramen and craft beer. Jinyoung later found out that this was because Mark burned everything he tried to cook--he set off the smoke detector in his apartment trying to microwave a bag of popcorn once and the entire building had to be evacuated. He could only infer this was the reason they always had takeout when all four of them would set up camp in his living room, pulling all nighters to work on their project. Mark had even spent quite a few nights in the restaurant Jinyoung worked at when he couldn’t make it to a study session, typing away on his laptop and making small talk with him whenever he came by to refill his soda, asking questions about formatting and other concerns he had about the project. Though a bit strange that he decided to do schoolwork in an eating establishment instead of a coffee shop, the sentiment still made Jinyoung’s heart skip the smallest beat. That and Mark was always sure to leave a sizable tip when he left even though Jinyoung continuously told him not to. Every time he went to clean off the table and found three twenties folded neatly under the salt shaker, he’d roll his eyes, but the corner of his lips would still tug up into a small grin. He never mentioned this to Bambam or Jackson, of course, unless he wanted to be labeled a sugar baby again.

“Earth to Jinyoung,” Bambam waved his hand in front of Jinyoung’s face, snapping him out of his daze.

“Huh?” Jinyoung blinked, his head pulling away from the hand resting under his chin as he looked at his best friend standing in front of him.

“Oh, so you are alive. I’ve been standing here for a solid minute now, and you’ve just been staring off nowhere.”

Jinyoung chuckled lightly under his breath and apologized before standing up from his seat on the bench to walk with Bambam to his morning class, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. He’d been waiting outside the dorms for him. “I was just thinking about…” he trailed off, getting lost in his own thoughts again.

“Thinking about?” Bambam moved his hand in a circular motion, expression expectant for the rest of the sentence. “Are you gonna finish that sentence or are you just gonna stare off into the distance again like the dramatic English Literature major you are?”

“What? Oh,” Jinyoung shook his head, “don’t worry about it.”

Bambam hmphed, taking a moment to think before speaking, “You were thinking about Mark, weren’t you?”

Jinyoung stopped walking and look over at Bambam, dumbfounded, “Am I  _ that  _ transparent?”

He shrugged, snickering over the fact his hunch had been correct, “Honestly? No. But we’ve been friends for years, so you’re pretty much an open book to me whether you want to be or not.”

Jinyoung sighed, picking up his pace again.

“Plus, you had this dazed, lovestruck look in your eyes,” Bambam continued teasingly.

“Shut the fuck up,” Jinyoung shoved him as he laughed.

“So...have you made the move on his yet?” his best friend pried, elbowing his rib cage.

He replied shortly, “Nope.”

Bambam looked at him confusedly, “Why not? You like him, don’t you?”

“I mean I’m definitely attracted to him, but I have so much on my plate right now, the timing just seems off. I’m so exhausted from work and classes, I hardly even have time to see you, it doesn’t make sense for me to make any sort of advances.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Bambam agreed sullenly, “but, I mean, what greater stress reliever than sex, am I right?” he smirked.

Jinyoung rolled his eyes and shoved his best friend for the second time in the past minute, “I’m serious.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Bambam sighed, his hidden inner romantic feeling slightly let down over Jinyoung’s decision, but knowing not to push the issue any further. He instead filled his best friend in on his own budding love life. The more he gushed on and on about his boyfriend, the more Jinyoung smiled, content seeing Bambam happy in a way he’d never truly seen. Well, that is until the other droned on about how good the sex was and Jinyoung had to plead for him to stop.

They eventually parted ways, Bambam heading into class as Jinyoung crossed back through the campus to his own class. Sitting towards the back, he flipped open his textbook, skimming the chapters he was supposed to read the night before but hadn’t due to another late night at work as he waited for class to start. Mark came in soon after, finding him quickly and coming to sit down next to him.

“You look tired” was the first thing that escaped his mouth upon looking at Jinyoung.

“Yeah, I had another late shift yesterday,” Jinyoung sighed, rubbing a hand over his face and through his hair.

Mark hummed in understanding, the stress practically tangible by the expression on Jinyoung’s face as he continued to hurriedly read through the text in front of him. “At least our project’s almost done. Jae and Dowoon said they have their parts finished, so we just need to tie up our loose ends and then organize everything before the deadline next week.”

“Thank god,” Jinyoung leaned back in his seat, relief washing over him as he slumped down, his head falling back against the edge of his chair to stare at the ceiling for a moment.

“Do you have another shift tonight? You can stop by my place and we can finish it up,” Mark suggested.

“Yeah, that sounds good, I have tonight off,” Jinyoung nodded, turning his head to look at the other as he replied.

“Okay,” Mark said softly. He tilted his head to match the angle of Jinyoung’s so he could look at him properly. His eyes seemed to wander all over his face before the corner of his mouth turned up sympathetically. The professor walked in then, drawing both boys’ gazes away from each other.

Throughout the entire class, Jinyoung fell in and out of sleep, Mark being the only barrier between him and slumber. His head would lull forward followed by a quiet giggle from the man beside him and a finger prodding at his arm to pull him awake again.

When class ended, the two walked out together, discussing what time Jinyoung would swing by Mark’s place before splitting in opposite directions. As Jinyoung strolled down the street towards his dorm to pick up his textbook for his English Literature class, he relished in knowing he’d finally have a whole night alone to hang out with Mark, even if, again, it was dampened by schoolwork. Although his nagging subconscious refused to let him forget the stress currently weighing him down, he was still excited, finding the more time he spent with Mark, the more he realized how much he liked hanging out with him. Whether this was just because of the sexual electricity that would ease around them whenever they were alone for too long, Jinyoung wasn’t entirely sure, but he didn’t care enough anymore to dwell on it. For once, he was going to leave it be.

 

 

* * *

  
  


By the time evening rolled in, Jinyoung felt like a dead man alive. With a night occupied by more schoolwork ahead of him, he stopped by the 24 hour coffee shop near campus to pick up two cups of coffee with as much caffeine as he could possibly consume without going into cardiac arrest. His feet dragged as he made his way down the hallway of Mark’s building, limp hand knocking against the white door once he’d managed to reach the apartment. He heard slow steps from inside before he was face to face with a smiling Mark.

“You brought coffee,” he said.

“Yeah, I didn’t think I’d make it through the night without it,” Jinyoung breathed out.

“You looked like you were about to die in class today, you sure you still want to finish up the project tonight? We have until Monday,” Mark replied and grabbed the drink carrier from Jinyoung’s hand as they walked to the living room.

“Yeah, I’m sure. The sooner we get it done, the better. I just want to get this over with already,” Jinyoung huffed and flopped down on the couch, his backpack flung onto the cushion next to him.

“Me too,” Mark sighed before tearing open a plastic bag sitting on the table, “I bought some takeout if you’re hungry. Might help us push through the last bit of work.”

“Did you order that food because you have the munchies? It smells like shit in here,” Jinyoung retorted.

“Isn’t that what it always smells like in here?” Mark joked, scratching his head in fake confusion. Jinyoung rolled his eyes as he chuckled.

The next hour passed quickly as both boys consumed their caffeine and junk food and diligently typed away on their laptops. It was quiet for the majority of the time until--

“You’ve gotta be  _ fucking  _ kidding me,” Jinyoung groaned. “Jae fucked up his entire portion of the research, none of his information is matching up with the rest of ours.” Mark only began to giggle in response as Jinyoung continued to complain. “We’re literally gonna have to go in and redo his entire part of the project for this to even remotely make any sense.”

Mark continued to laugh, an audible “How the  _ fuck  _ do you mess up research?” heard in the background.

“He didn’t even cite his sources. Did he even do any research or did he just make shit up as he went? How are you laughing right now? We were almost finished with everything and now we have all this extra work to do,” Jinyoung said incredulously.

“Calm down, Jinyoung, we’ll get it done,” Mark said as he took another hit from the pipe he’d packed earlier. Slightly angry from his worry being pushed aside so easily and tweaking from the caffeine and fresh onslaught of work they now had to make up, Jinyoung eyed the pipe in the palm of Mark’s hand.

“Does that stuff really work? In mellowing you out and making you more productive or whatever?” Jinyoung asked.

He could tell this was not what Mark was expecting him to say because Mark’s eyebrows quirked up immediately at the sound of this question. “I was joking about the productive part, but yeah, it definitely helps with stress,” Mark said after a moment, “why?”

“Can I take a hit?”

Mark choked on the smoke he’d just inhaled, Jinyoung smirking as he struggled to catch his breath. “Are you sure? You said the last time you smoked, the high made you anxious?”

“Yeah, but that was years ago, and if you couldn’t tell, I could really use the stress relief right now and I’m honestly getting desperate,” Jinyoung said.

Mark hesitated, staring at the ceramic thing and contemplating whether he should really let him take a hit or not. Sighing, he nodded, “Yeah, alright, you can try it if you want. Not too much though, I don’t want it to fuck you up, y’know, because of the project and all...”

Jinyoung snickered to himself, noticing Mark’s sudden attitude change in hurrying to get the project done. Was he really that worried about him? He got up and sat next to Mark, taking the pipe out of his hand with ease. He stared at it for a moment; it occurred to him he didn’t really know what he was doing.

“So...how do I do it?” Jinyoung asked blankly.

“Right,” Mark stammered, “so just put it up to your mouth, and I’ll light it for you. Once the embers catch, breathe in and place your thumb over this hole.” Mark reached out and grabbed Jinyoung’s hand before pushing Jinyoung’s thumb down over one of the holes on the pipe. “Once you inhale most of the smoke, release your thumb and inhale for a little longer and then exhale.”

“Okay, got it,” Jinyoung nodded, bringing the pipe up to his mouth. Mark pulled his lighter up to the packed bowl before igniting it. The flame flickered across the embers as they caught, alighting a dim fiery red. Jinyoung inhaled, trying his best to remember everything Mark had told him to do precisely. Pulling his lips away from the pipe, he held the smoke in his lungs for a moment only for a coughing fit to force it out seconds later. His throat  _ burned _ . Mark went wide-eyed, immediately placing the lighter on the table and grabbing the pipe out of Jinyoung’s hand.

“Are you okay?” Mark asked as he patted Jinyoung’s back.

“I’m fine,” he laughed out in between coughs. 

Seeing as the other obviously wasn’t taking this too seriously, Mark let himself laugh, too, relaxing and pulling the pipe up to his mouth to take a hit for himself.

“I want another,” Jinyoung said after the coughing died down.

“Another?” Mark looked at him bewildered, “you just choked on all that smoke and almost coughed out a lung and you want to take  _ another _ ?”

“One hit isn’t gonna get me high, Mark,” Jinyoung deadpanned. 

Mark looked at him for a moment, grumbling an “okay” under his breath and nodding his head, “Yeah, alright, but drink some water first. I bet your throat feels like it’s in flames after that coughing fit.” Handing Jinyoung the water bottle he’d already been drinking out of throughout the night, he watched as the other drank. Once Jinyoung capped the bottle, placing it back on the coffee table, Mark passed the pipe to him and lit it for him once more. This time the smoke flowed seamlessly from Jinyoung’s mouth without much protest. It still tickled his throat on the way out, but he was quick to suppress the urge to cough, and he smiled triumphantly at Mark afterwards, Mark’s gaze full of amusement.

“Not bad,” he mused.

Jinyoung shrugged nonchalantly, but both boys could tell he was elated with himself for the irrelevant success.

Countless hits later and a pipe left with only ash and burnt bits of weed in it, Jinyoung and Mark were fighting fits of laughter as they tried to push through the remaining work left of their project. While Mark may really have been joking about the productive qualities of marijuana, Jinyoung was almost convinced it was a real benefit to the plant; he’d never gotten so much work done in such a small amount of time before. Though the high he was currently experiencing definitely came with numerous bouts of distraction—and maybe a few more due to the company he was in—it also came with the stress relief he needed, the tight coils in his head unwinding, making it much easier for him to cruise through the extra work that him two hours ago would’ve popped a vein trying to complete. 

The Jinyoung now, however, was leaning against Mark’s small frame, eyes screwed shut as his body shook with laughter, hand coming up to cover his mouth as the other clutched his stomach. Mark continued to do an impersonation of their other two project partners, Jae and Dowoon, somehow managing to mimic their vocal tones and speech habits to a T. The two had only seen their project mates bicker in a couple brief moments throughout the last few weeks, but Mark had acted it out with accuracy that had Jinyoung almost keeling over with laughter and Mark breaking character to join him with his own childlike giggling. Jinyoung made a mental note to add this to the ongoing list of things he’d learned about Mark since meeting him—both the impersonations part and how sweetly high pitched his giggles were when he was caught up in a fit of laughter.

As their laughs began to die down, Jinyoung realized his head had found its way onto Mark’s shoulder, and had he not been under the influence of a quite exceptional high, he probably would’ve scurried back to his normally firm posture, his constant emotional limbo not allowing him to act boldly on his attraction to Mark. Not this time, though. This time, with the help of the cannabis circulating in his system, he sighed with content and allowed himself to enjoy the moment, even doing so much as to lean the slightest further into the other. And just like every other time before when the two men spent time alone together, electricity began to wrap itself around them, igniting their nerves in every place their bodies touched. The lingering part of sober Jinyoung hoped that was just a side effect of the weed, and an even farther part of Jinyoung, the part of him he’d pushed to the very back corner of his mind, prayed he wasn’t the only one experiencing the staticy feeling.

Just then, Mark pulled away from him, Jinyoung immediately worried he’d overstepped some invisible boundary the other had placed between them. That is until he saw the look Mark was giving him when they locked eyes. He couldn’t quite tell exactly what the look meant, but he knew the direction things were about to go if he didn’t break eye contact now. And yet he didn’t. He continued to stare at Mark, the hidden part of Jinyoung deciding for once he was taking charge.

Mark spoke first, something in his voice challenging the other man, “Do you want to kiss me, Jinyoung?”

Jinyoung had been wondering when the daring part of Mark would make his return, and here he was, unafraid and waiting. Jinyoung just wished he’d been more prepared for him. Stunned by the straightforward question, he didn’t reply for a moment, but after feeling his heart beginning to race in his chest, self preservation kicked in and he swallowed, “No.”

Oh, but that’s not what his eyes said. In fact, the way Jinyoung’s eyes were subconsciously flicking down to Mark’s lips and back up to his eyes said the exact opposite.

Mark smirked at this. He leaned in hardly an inch more, but the movement still made the back of Jinyoung’s neck prickle with goosebumps. “Are you sure, Jinyoungie?”

The nickname that usually made Jinyoung bristle with annoyance somehow sounded saccharine yet all the more alluring coming out of Mark’s mouth, and he couldn’t bare another second of it. Jinyoung grabbed Mark by the nape of his neck and pulled him in, his lips hovering in a moment of hesitation before landing solidly against the other’s. And even with the taste of smoke still staining the both of their mouths, it was sweet.  _ God, was it sweet _ , Jinyoung thought. 

Their mouths both grew hungrier by the second, Jinyoung taking the initiative to feed both their wants and getting up to place one thigh on each side of Mark, straddling his lap as the other man’s tongue slipped wetly across his bottom lip. Jinyoung was quick to open his mouth, Mark’s tongue losing no time as it teasingly lapped against Jinyoung’s. Soon enough, his lips moved to his jawline before trailing down to Jinyoung’s neck in search of the man’s sweet spot. And he supposed he found it fairly quickly by the way Jinyoung’s mouth immediately hung open to let out a quiet moan when he bit and sucked right below the other’s ear. As Mark continued to lick at the sensitive skin, Jinyoung began to unravel, his hips grinding down onto Mark’s lap gently whenever he’d bite the spot a little harsher than before, feeling Mark hum against his neck every time he did. Jinyoung was positive he was going to have one dark hickey on his neck by the end of this.

Mark pulled away soon after finishing off the bruise sprouting below Jinyoung’s ear with a lewd popping sound, both men breathing heavily through reddened lips. They stared intensely at each other for another moment, foreheads presses together, before Jinyoung mumbled, pupils still blown wide, “We should probably finish the project.” He was afraid if they didn’t stop now, they wouldn’t stop at all.

Chuckling a little, Mark nodded and helped him as he unwrapped his arms from his neck and maneuvered off his lap, grabbing his laptop off the table.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jinyoung doesn’t remember falling asleep last night, but he sure as hell remembered  _ where _ he fell asleep upon opening his eyes the next morning. He was currently sprawled across the couch in Mark’s living room with a blanket tangled around his limbs.  _ I spent the night? _ Jinyoung thought to himself, shooting up and rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands in hopes his state of grogginess was just playing tricks on his vision. But lo and behold, it was not because he was still sat in the middle of Mark’s apartment when he reopened his eyes. Rubbing his neck, he winced slightly at the newly tender bruise occupying it, the memories of what exactly went down the night before while he was high coming back to him. Boy, did Jinyoung feel stupid. He sighed and laid his head in the palm of his hands, staring blankly at the coffee table in front of him. A sticky note with small handwriting etched in blue pen was stuck to the corner nearest him. He peeled it off the surface and read it.

 

_ sorry, had an early morning class _

_ -Mark _

 

So that’s why the apartment felt so eerily quiet. Under the small sentence, there was another message written.

 

_ PS- i finished the project after you fell asleep _

 

Jinyoung facepalmed. Not only did he make out with Mark last night due to his lack of better judgment, he  _ fell asleep _ in the middle of finishing up their project, leaving Mark to work alone to complete it.  _ Great. _

Spending a few more minutes to mentally reprimand himself for being so dumb, Jinyoung tossed the blanket from his body and put his laptop that was still laid out on the table back in his backpack. He had no idea how long it’d been since Mark left or when he was supposed to come back, but he definitely didn’t want to be here for when he arrived. Zipping up his bag and slinging it over his shoulder, Jinyoung folded up the blanket he’d used the night before and laid it on the arm of the couch before swiftly making his escape from the apartment.

On his way back to the dorm, he physically cringed at how much of a field day Bambam was going to have when he caught wind of this shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmaoooo yall i know it's been almost an entire year since i last updated and i am real sorry but i dont really have any sort of excuse other than a momentary loss of interest and lack of inspiration overall, but last night as my menstrual cramps put me to sleep, i was thinking about this au and how much potential it had and i was like....it needs to be done and so i FINALLY finished the update after it's been sitting, half written, in my google drive for months on end but...she's here.........i hope she doesn't disappoint.....scream at me on twitter if you'd like @birdingiasses thank u if u've actually stuck around uwu <3 <3


End file.
